These Are The Days Of Their Lives
by howardtduck48
Summary: Maeve Wiley deserves to be happy. If only she can give someone a chance to explain. (Starts near the end of Episode 1.7 and the first 17 chapters were written before Season 2 started.)
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: A Maeve/Otis AU fic.**

**Spoilers for the whole of Sex Education (potentially) so I suggest watching all episodes of this wonderful and lovable series before reading.**

**Starts just after that heartbreaking scene near the end of Episode 1.7 where a bomb is thrown and a trust is shattered.**

**I 'needed' to write this because Maeve Wiley deserves to be happy.**

**If only she can give someone a chance to explain.**

* * *

**Chapter 1**

**Day 1**

Maeve let go of Jackson as he stumbled to the side of the front entrance to the school and – one hand leaning against the brickwork – began purging his stomach of even more of the vodka and orange and whatever it was he had eaten earlier in the night.

She tried to block the sound from her consciousness. Vomiting made her sick – _hah!_ – and even if she tried to think of it clinically as emesis the noises emanating from her putative boyfriend were still conspiring with her anger to make her stomach start to buckle and churn and she reached for something – anything - to focus on and, absent conscious thought, turned to walk back into the building, murmuring, "Don't die on me."

* * *

She saw a slump-shouldered Otis in the centre of the doorway leading into the dance room, taking one step forward, another back, eyes ogling the floor, as bereft as she had ever seen anyone and deep beneath her rage and her pain and her loss she wanted to run to him and hug him and spend the rest of eternity protecting him from anybody – _anybody _– who tried to hurt him again.

But the fire was still blazing and the chasm was expanding and the breach could not be sealed.

"Oi! Dickstain!" she almost roared. "Where the fuck do you think you're going?"

Otis turned and his eyes met hers and the fear and the sorrow and the despair and the shame and the regret almost quenched the fire, almost bridged the chasm, almost sealed the breach, almost made her want to envelop him in her arms and stroke his hair and softly whisper that she forgave him and that she knew he would never ever deliberately try to hurt her and she tried to get there, she really tried, but she couldn't. She couldn't. The betrayal was too raw and the pain was too strong and the loss was too recent and her armour was holding and she could only stride up to him and poke him in the chest and glare directly into his eyes.

"Why the fuck would you do that?" and her voice was full of accusation and condemnation.

"Why the fuck would you try to set me up with Jackson?" and her voice was full of indignation and resignation.

"Why the fuck would you let him pay you to tell him what I like?" and her voice was full of isolation and desolation.

"Fucking answer me, Milburn!" and her voice was full of anguish and the absence of hope.

Otis looked at her and away and a million words scrambled across his face without ever finding a passage to freedom.

"Tell me, Otis," and the almost pleading tone in her voice fought bravely but vainly with the steely glare in her eyes.

Otis' eyes fluttered like wounded butterflies as his last remaining hope for deliverance from her strength faded, crumbled, collapsed and shattered.

His voice was raw with undraped honesty. "Because I loved you, Maeve."

Her breath hitched and her eyes transformed into globes of shock and confusion. "What?"

He still ogled the ground and his voice cowered in his throat but she heard his words clearly; a clarion, a siren, a celebration, a wake. "I loved you and I'm sorry."

She knew. She had hoped he had been talking about her and when he said she knew why he couldn't do Them anymore she was certain but what did it mean now? What did it mean when the foundations of her trust were tattered and battered and shattered and clattering amidst the bleeding wreckage of her heart?

"I'm sorry," he repeated because he had no other words to say.

"Yeah," she snarled because she had no other words to find. "Sorriest excuse for a 'friend' I ever had," and that word carried all the contempt and bitterness and years of built-up rage against every man who had ever promised her the moon and gave her an ocean of dung; all of it directed at this gangly mess of contradictions she had believed was different from anyone she had ever met.

He was just the same.

A clone, an avatar, a replicant.

A fraud.

But he 'loved' her.

Her voice was steel as skepticism strengthened her frame. "Why would you push me to be with Jackson if you loved me?"

He opened his mouth and words tried to form and he couldn't meet her eyes and then Jackson's voice carried from the distance, "Maeve, where are you?"

She didn't move her glare from Otis' form as she called in response. "I'll be there in a minute, Jackson."

She glared at the still-wordless Otis for an eternity then her breath hitched and she thought she would cry but she spoke through a jaw clenched to prevent herself screaming at him. "I am so angry with you, Otis. _So_ hurt and so..." She searched for the word, found it. "Disappointed."

He nodded and swallowed and she watched the last memory of hope seep from his body and she wanted to enjoy his misery, wanted to gain some satisfaction at inflicting in return even a minute fraction of the pain he had given her but she couldn't. She couldn't.

She pushed her words past a throat flickering with flames. "But I don't want to lose you if I don't have to."

Otis looked at her and confusion and understanding wrestled in his eyes.

Jackson's voice floated again from outside. "Maeve. Maeve."

"In a minute, Jackson," she yelled back, hating the tone he had started to draw out of her.

Otis kept silent, his blue eyes watching her warily. Hopefully.

Maeve stared at him for more long eternities, her jaw set against a sob, her eyes subduing tears, until finally she was steel again.

"I can't do this tonight, Otis. I can't think straight. I need…" She paused and swallowed then was strong again. "Come to school early tomorrow. Meet me at the wall. If you're not there when I get there we are _definitely_ done."

"I'll be there," he promised as he forced his eyes into hers.

Her eyes held onto his for as long as she could bear then she dropped her head and turned and walked away.

Her voice was still steel as she called back, "You look good tonight, Otis."

He hesitated then called after her. "You're gorgeous in that dress, Maeve. I hope Jackson told you that."

An unseen smile momentarily felt freedom but that wasn't a tear in the corner of her eye.

* * *

**Author's Note: She's not a muse. She's a real person. And I'll fight anyone who says she isn't. That is all.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Notes: No Otis in this chapter except in spirit.**

**There's some obvious changes from the TV show but everything else is the same as the last few scenes of Episode 7.**

* * *

**Chapter 2**

**Day 2**

Maeve stepped into the darkness of her caravan and knew Sean was gone. She didn't even have to look for his bag. She knew.

Stealing away like a stranger in the night and she didn't even care enough to see what else he had taken from her this time.

She walked into the bedroom and started taking off her dress, eyes drifting over Otis' jumper peeking out from beneath her pillow without even seeing it.

She slipped out of her dress and held it before herself, staring at it resentfully, wishing she had never even gone to look for it, thinking she could have worn a burlap sack instead for all the unhappiness it had brought.

Hating it for giving her even a moment's hope that she could claim one bright shiny night for herself.

Fuck Sean.

Fuck Jackson.

Fuck Otis.

Not a single man she cared about had ever failed to let her down.

She tossed the dress onto the clothes hamper with a promise to herself to throw it in the trash in the morning then picked up her bedtime shirt and began to put it on.

She heard a distant knock on the caravan door and she knew it was one of them and knew also that it would be the wrong one.

* * *

Jackson lay shirtless on the bucking bed and looked up at her as she stood in the doorway, unable to read the expression on her face or the look in her eyes.

"I'm sorry, Maeve," he managed to get out.

"Whatever," she murmured. "I'll get a bucket. If you miss, you'll be paying Cynthia to get everything steam-cleaned."

She disappeared from his view and he stared at the ceiling, willing the rolling earthquake happening beneath him to stop.

When Maeve returned and silently placed the bucket by the bed within easy reach, he stared blearily at her and murmured, "I don't expect you to say it back, Maeve."

She didn't react to his words but straightened and said, "I'll be on the couch. I'll leave the lavvy light on so you don't trip over and break your neck."

She disappeared from the room and he knew she wasn't coming back that night.

He closed his eyes, breathed slowly and deeply and just as the darkness was about to swallow him for the interim he heard her bare feet moving quickly across the bedroom floor, felt one hand leaning on the bed beside him and her presence leaning over him then something was snatched from beneath the pillow and the change in support height almost made him need the bucket and by the time he had taken enough breaths to steady his roiling stomach and he managed to open his eyes she was gone.

After the darkness finally claimed him, clattering from the kitchen forced it to let him go.

* * *

Jackson stumbled blearily into the kitchen and watched Maeve as she washed up her breakfast dishes.

"Maeve-," he began.

"I don't want to hear it." Her voice was curt and flat.

Jackson fell silent and then the floor began swaying and he quickly sat at the breakfast table, holding on so he wouldn't fall further.

He took slow deep breaths to soothe the hurricane raging in his stomach and as he raised his head to draw another breath into his lungs he saw his shirt hanging on a portable clothes airer in the corner of the room. He could see she had rinsed the sick out of it as much as she could but he could also still see a faint tinge of orange. The stain would come out but christ, how had he fucked this up so badly?

Her voice was still flat but the curtness was gone and the sound of the past in her tone brought tears to his eyes.

"There's leftovers in the fridge. Should be alright. Or there's eggs. Just leave me one for tonight. I'm short until our next clien-" She stopped as the truth returned to her.

"Just leave me one egg," she continued and he had to strain to hear the sound.

He couldn't say anything.

"And don't you dare leave money in the drawer again. I told you. I'm not a charity case. I did just fine before you and I'll do just fine once you're gone."

He already knew but it still felt like another punch to the gut. He had known at the dance that he had been losing her and he knew now he was never going to be able to make it right.

The clatter of utensils was the only thing keeping the silence at bay until suddenly she slammed her fists against the sink.

Out of the corner of her eye she could see him start to move and, with a voice as cold as iron, Maeve said, "Don't you dare fucking move. If you come near me, I will swear it was self defence and there will be no-one around to contradict me."

He sank back into his seat, staring at her as the wall between them crystalized.

After a few moments of gazing forlornly into the sink, she drew in a deep breath and then he could sense how much of the anger she was still keeping hidden. "Christ, Jackson! Why couldn't you have just accepted it? You could see that what we had was ending. You had to have known. Ever since Sean came back."

Her voice was quieter as she spoke almost to herself. "Even before Sean came back."

She paused again and when she continued the anger was still clear. "Why couldn't you just let it be? We could have still been friends. Could have still hung out sometimes. And I could have lived in blissful ignorance that both of you fucking bastards tricked me into being with you and I could have told—" Her voice faltered again and she closed her eyes and dropped her head even further.

When she spoke again he could hear the tears. "But, no. You had to go and pull the pin. Blow everything up. If you weren't going to be with me you were going to make damn sure Otis wasn't either."

She breathed deeply again, raised her head then turned slowly around, regaining her composure and after she finally saw him in the morning light she let her shoulders slump and dropped some of the armour.

Her voice was gentler as she continued. "And that's the thing. It wasn't bad between us, Jackson. It was nice. It was better than nice. It was great. I'm glad we were together. I'm glad Otis was hinting that having a boyfriend wasn't a bad thing. That opening up – to you or whoever – wasn't a bad thing."

Frustration broke from her voice. "And that's what makes this whole fucking thing so damn confusing. I don't love you and the guy I do love-"

She seemed to collapse in on herself as she ogled the floor.

Jackson waited until he was sure she wasn't going to speak again before saying quietly, "Don't blame mum man."

She didn't raise her head and her tone was flat again. "His name's Otis, Jackson."

He took a breath and tried to start again -"Don't-" – and then he realized. "You're going to see him."

She nodded but didn't look at him and her voice was still flat and he couldn't sense hope. "Yeah, I'm going to see him. See if I can salvage anything from this whole fucking mess."

Jackson swallowed and blinked tears from his eyes. His voice was even quieter than before. "Tell him I'm sorry."

She raised her head and glared at him, pressing her lips together to prevent herself saying anything she couldn't take back.

Jackson leant forward and hoped his voice carried the promise he was making. "I'll—I'll tell him myself when I see him but… just…' He hung his head as the shame washed through him. "Tell him I'm sorry," he finished, murmuring.

She dropped her head again and ogled the floor for a few moments more then sighed and pushed herself away from the sink. She grabbed her jacket and stopped in front of Jackson, looking down at his bowed head.

Her voice was gentle again but the past was screaming in his ear as she spoke. "Goodbye, Jackson. I hope you work things out with your mums."

She walked to the door and paused. Her voice was even softer still but she didn't look back at him. "It'll lock behind you when you leave. I don't want you here when I get back."

Jackson's face was stone as the door quietly closed behind her.

* * *

**Author's Note: I have more chapters or part-chapters written already. I'm just needing to polish them or fill in the gaps.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Notes: There's probably too much regurgitation of the events of Episode 4 in this chapter and I really haven't reached what I was aiming for but I hope there's some value in this.**

* * *

**Chapter 3**

Maeve stepped around the last of the line of trees concealing their wall and the knot in her stomach loosened and her breath began moving again.

Otis was there, everything she physically liked about him present in his appealing awkwardness as he paced beside their wall, seemingly in muttered conversation with an invisible unknown. She watched him as he rehearsed and the rawness in her throat returned and she hoped that meant there was something to salvage.

She sighed and steeled herself then began walking across the gravel leading up to their wall. She saw the noise alert him and watched him stop pacing and look in her direction and she could see his first instinct was to flee.

"Don't you fucking move, Milburn. I will hunt you down and gut you like a rabbit."

He jumped and shivered with trepidation and she could see he was scared of her and she knew she had spent years trying to cultivate that reaction but she wasn't sure how she felt now seeing it reflected from Otis.

He waited and studied her and as she approached she could see wariness and indecision and dread in his eyes and she wanted to throw away the armour she had been fitting into place during the walk from the caravan but she didn't feel strong enough to risk it. She needed to hear so she could understand.

"Maeve, g—" he began then retreated under the force of her protective glare as she stopped with just enough distance between them. He nodded to himself then looked down and seemed almost startled at something he saw then she noticed a piece of paper in his hand that he began alternatively holding out to her and trying to hide behind his bum.

Her curiosity rose but she simply looked at him until he nodded again and surrendered and slid the note into his back pocket and breathed deeply and swallowed and set his shoulders and raised forlorn blue eyes to her face and she had a microsecond to force her own eyes to seem dead.

"I'm sorry, Maeve," he murmured and the emptiness of his voice almost shattered the armour to microfragments.

"Yeah. You said." To a dismayed Otis, her voice seemed flat with indifference.

He took a deep breath and looked away and gathered his words and tried again but his eyes never quite reached her own. "I mean, I'm _really_ sorry."

She noticed his hands reaching out and withdrawing as he spoke but she didn't say anything and she didn't move.

"I hurt you. I betrayed your trust. I basically—" He straightened suddenly as a realization struck. "No, not basically," he said, annoyed with himself before looking Maeve directly in the eyes and continuing with a fierce earnestness. "I _did_ lie to you, Maeve. Repeatedly. I _lied. _Lies of omission. Lies of commission. Just lie after lie after lie. And I shouldn't have. You're m—" He stumbled as dissonance hit and he hesitated and he dropped his head and he seemed to shrink and when he continued his voice was strangled in his throat. "You were my friend and I let you down and I'm sorry."

She hoped her face was still showing stone.

"You deserved better than that," he finished, quietly.

She watched him take a deep breath then set his posture and finally return his eyes to hers to await sentence and that glorious blue was clear for the first time since the explosion.

She held his gaze for longer than she could see he was comfortable with then snapped, "You fucking bet I did. I deserved—I _deserve_\- a helluva lot better, Otis."

She gave him an ever fiercer glare then looked down and reached into her bag and pulled out a cigarette and lighter and he took another opportunity to ogle the ground and a little more of the knot in her stomach drifted away.

She lit the cigarette and took a few drags while watching him until she finally asked, "So why did you do it?" and her voice was not satin but it was not steel.

"I…" he started and faltered.

She watched him struggle to find a word to restart then she moved past him to lean her back against the wall. "Come on. Tell me everything. And be honest, Otis." She allowed the armour to fade for a moment. "I need you to be honest."

After long moments of staring at him, watching him start to speak and then swallow his words, she raised her face to the sky, sighed and said with only a tinge of impatience, "So what did Jackson first say to you?"

She could see he was grateful for the focus as he straightened and turned to her and his words tumbled out in a rush. "Eric and I were sitting in the study, just minding our own business and we were talking and I think we were studying English and Eric saw Jackson coming over and Eric was smitten because—"

She rolled her eyes and snapped, "Stop waffling. Get to the point. I want to finish this conversation before the Universe explodes."

She could see his mind leap to a place where he felt more secure and her heart dropped. "Well, actually, if you go by the Big Freeze theory—"

She threw her cigarette and her patience away. "Right, we're done. Have a shitty life and stay the fuck away from me, Otis."

She stepped away from the wall and started to walk back towards the trees, face set against the tears fighting to break free. She should have known this would be a waste of her time. It always was.

"No, Maeve, please," she heard him call from behind her and the desperation in his voice dragged her to a standstill. "Please. I'm sorry. I'll… I'll get to the point. I won't waffle." His voice was barely a whisper that hit harder than a spittle-flecked scream. "Please."

She turned and looked at him and the full force of her glare made him flinch and she knew he couldn't see how flimsy her armour really was.

Otis took two deep breaths and looked into her eyes. "Jackson said he knew I was your friend—" He faltered slightly as she snorted. "—and said he wanted to hang out with you for more than just the sex and he wanted me to help get you to be his girlfriend and then he just shoved money in my hand and walked off."

She waited a moment to savour the indignant and disbelieving shrug he gave then asked, "So why didn't you just tell me? Wouldn't have been a big deal. I could have just told him to fuck off and the money was a tax for wasting our time."

"I couldn't, Maeve." His face twisted in anguish and she had to force the armour to hold.

"Why not?" Maeve asked, hope and desperation making her harsher than she wanted to be. "You had a tongue, didn't you? Or did he take that when he gave you the money? Is that what the money was really for and you just fucked me over for the hell of it?"

"I was in love with you, Maeve," he said as he bent over and put his hands on his knees, looking as if he'd been gutpunched.

She still couldn't understand because it made no sense but she couldn't bring herself to say anything and he finally turned his head to look at her.

His voice was so hollow she struggled to hear his words. "Eric knew. I was in denial, but Eric knew."

Her voice was still firm if not quite as sharp as she spoke again. "So what did you concoct in that pretty little head of yours to tell Jackson so he could 'get' me?"

He straightened and stepped towards her, willing his eyes into hers. "I wanted to give the money back."

Familiarity swept through her as she stared into the blue that had been etching itself into her soul and she dropped her eyes to her hands to escape, both fearing and hoping he had noticed. She shrugged to conceal a shiver. "So why didn't you?"

"I tried, Maeve. I really tried. But Jackson… He's like…" She looked back up at him and let annoyance claim her face as she sensed he was going to start waffling again and he clamped down on the sentences that were about to escape and took a deep breath and restarted. "He was talking about you like you were an inanimate object."

She smiled, cynically amused. "What? Like a pocket pussy? Blow-up doll?"

"No, like a… like a Rubik's Cube that he couldn't solve. Or a sexy merry-go-round that went round and round and he couldn't get off."

She snorted and smiled and looked at her fingernails and deliberately missed the point. "He always got off with me."

Otis pressed his lips together momentarily and she hid her smile as he deliberately ignored her words.

"That really annoyed me," he continued, with an indignance that shot right through her. "I told him you weren't an object. That you were a person. And I asked him if he ever thought of just asking you what you wanted or what you liked. And then…"

"Then…?" She bit gently into her thumbnail.

"He was like a Jedi. He just opened his mouth and no matter—"

She shook her head sharply. "You're waffling again. It's not cute today, Otis. It's boring."

He completely missed the significance of her words and she wasn't sure if she was disappointed or relieved but her pout may have been pointing the way.

"He asked me what you liked and I told him," he said, flatly.

"What did you tell him?" she asked as she walked past him to return to the wall.

"That you had a really dark sense of humour."

She leaned against the wall and didn't know what to do with her hands. "What else?"

"That you liked female writers like Virginia Woolf and Sylvia Plath and Roxane Gay and that you had really great taste in music like Joy Division and Nirvana and Bikini Kill but you weren't a snob because you listened to pop as well."

She smiled and felt seen and let her posture relax and she noticed her armour in pieces on the ground. "And you can just remember everything you said to him? Just like that? No reaching? You don't have to try to think back?"

"Of course I remember, Maeve. I was in love with you."

She hoped she hadn't flinched when she finally realised he had been using the past tense.

"So what next?" she asked quickly. "What did you do next? What did _he_ do next?"

Otis sighed and put his forehead against his fingertips. "He started using what I told him to… intrigue you?" He frowned uncertainly at her, his eyes querying whether that was the right term.

She stared at the fingernails of her left hand for a moment, then nodded. "'Intrigue' is probably right. It was weird. I was just… I was looking at him in a new light. I hadn't thought of him liking stuff like that—" She almost smiled again and her posture softened and then she remembered.

Her voice was flat as she continued. "But he didn't, did he? He didn't actually like stuff like that."

Otis sighed and she glanced up at him as he spoke tentatively. "He said he liked some of it. And that you were mad brainy and the two of you were texting all the time."

She pouted a little and picked at one finger. "Yeah, he did say he really liked _The Bell Jar_."

"He said it was good seeing things outside our bubble sometimes."

"So, what next?" she asked, trying for indifference.

"He came up to me and said he was going to ask you out. Properly, this time. And he asked me how he should do it so he didn't screw it up. Because he really really liked you. He went to bed dreaming of you. He woke up thinking of you. He… he thought you could be… The One."

She gave a little smile and snorted then allowed soft puzzlement to caress her face. "So why did you tell him to go for the Grand Gesture? You knew I didn't like them."

Otis sighed and stepped back, frowning and hesitating before speaking. "I thought… I thought if he went for the Big Grand Gesture you would just be so horrified or disgusted that you'd turn and walk away giving him the double-barrel fingers as you went and I… I wouldn't have to be jealous of him."

She looked searchingly at him and she knew he was untruthful but she didn't know why.

He took a breath and looked directly at her. "And I owe you another really big apology about that. I'm sorry. I never thought about what it would be like for you, being put in a position like that because if you rejected him then you'd be the Biggest Villain Ever and it would be another thing for people to attack you with and you didn't need that. You didn't deserve that. And it would be my fault your life would be worse."

He looked at her and she was just staring at him. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

There was a very long silence between them as she pondered and ruminated and reflected until finally she realized and she stopped biting her nail and softened her posture and firmly shook her head. "Bullshit."

He flinched and frowned. "What?"

"You didn't tell him to try the Big Romantic Gesture because you wanted me to get right the fuck away from him because you loved me and thought you may have had a slight infinitesimal chance with me if he was out of the picture. You wouldn't have been that selfish, Otis. You _would_ have thought about what it would be like for me and you would _never_ have deliberately set things up to hurt me or embarrass me even if you were jealous he was already with me sometimes. Unless…"

"Unless…?" he asked with a failed attempt at puzzled innocence and she could see she had struck a nerve.

"Unless he did something to annoy you so much you weren't even thinking about me."

She smiled as he flinched and dropped his gaze and she moved to stand directly in front of him.

She hoped he could hear her smile. "He did something to annoy you and you wanted to see him fall flat on his arse."

His shoulders deflated and she wanted to hug him and celebrate her victory but she was enjoying her feelings of relief too much. "So what did he do?"

"It doesn't matter, Maeve. I lied to you. I hurt you. I put you in what could have been a shitty situation—"

She was disappointed he wasn't looking at her smile. "What did he say to you, Otis?"

Otis looked anywhere but her face. "It doesn't—"

"Otis," she snapped.

Otis jumped and squeaked and looked at her and she almost burst out laughing. "He called me a little mum man."

"What?" This time she did laugh.

"'Mum!'" he said and began walking away from and back toward her, gaze flying anywhere but toward her. "He said 'mum'. I heard 'Mum'. M_y_ mum. My crazy mental overstepping no-boundaries therapist mum and I remembered I was being a therapist which meant Mum and I were similar and I was like my mum and we were fighting and I didn't want to be similar and I didn't want to be like my mum and it really stung that I could be like my mum and Jackson was the one who implied I was like my mum and I was jealous of the way Jackson never had any problem asking girls out because he could just ask them and they would say 'yes' and the way he was so handsome and so popular and had everyone gazing at him as if he was a god striding past and even you were checking him out even before all the book stuff and I was jealous and I wanted him to fail and I wanted him to fall on his medal-winning golden champion head prefect boy perfect arse and I wouldn't have to think of him being with you and making you laugh and making you smile and making you happy."

He wound down to a halt and regained his composure and when he finally had the courage to look at her she could see he was surprised by the presence of something they both thought they had lost forever.

They held their gaze for a long time before she murmured, "And the next time you saw him I was snogging his face off after he sang that I was cheating and lying to get any guy that I fancied."

Otis straightened and faced her directly and reflected on her words and relaxed into a small smile. "When I think about it that line was a classic example of projection."

Maeve chuckled and shook her head and savoured the lightness in her heart.

"Inadvertently," he finished, lamely.

She punched him gently in the arm. "Only you, muppet, could push me closer to the guy you were trying to break me away from. When you fuck it up, you really fuck it up."

He shrugged and nodded and grimaced. "I could go to the Olympics for Fucking Up."

She snorted a chuckle and gave him a smile she noticed she seemed to have been reserving only for him lately. "Otis Milburn, World Champion Fucking-Upperer. Gold, Silver, Bronze, Diamond, Platinum, Quartz and Lego medals."

He snorted his own chuckle and stared into her eyes and she watched his smile spread throughout his body.

An eternity of familiarity passed for both of them before she spoke again.

"Did it hurt when you saw me kiss Jackson?" she asked softly.

"A lot," he breathed.

She never broke his gaze but her tone was gentle. "Good."

* * *

**Author's Note: Hope you found some entertainment.**

**May be a few days before the next chapter.**

**This writing thing is hard.**

**I'm primarily a dialogue writer (see my Castle story 'I Didn't Say It Was A Date') but sometimes I need to put flesh on the bones.**

**I don't think this chapter has enough flesh, especially in the latter half.**

**Maybe one day I can find a way to improve it but for now this is the best I can do.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Notes: This took less time than expected.**

**I hope you don't stumble over the experimental section at the beginning too badly.**

* * *

**Chapter 4**

Maeve leant against the wall, her head turned to the right to study Otis who was leaning his elbows on the brickwork, staring across the field beyond. She felt content for the first time in a long time and she couldn't actually remember the last time she had been feeling this way. Maybe with Otis. Before Jackson. The thought surprised her because she knew when she _knew_ she had feelings for Otis but she couldn't recall the first moment her feelings of friendship and admiration for this strange little wonderful wise man shifted from enjoying being around him to wistfully thinking she would like something more to be happening between them. It was before their almost-kiss on the bridge when she thought she had terminally embarrassed herself by thinking he could ever possibly be interested in her in that way but she couldn't for the life of her think where that moment could have occurred because before that night she had been spending a lot of time with Jackson and hadn't seen Otis much and there was no moment during that period of what was now she thinks about it too long a separation no moment that she remembered replaying in her mind in the way she replayed that almost-kiss on the bridge always with a different ending and if it was before Jackson then she still struggled to pick out a particular moment because there was the time his voice came from behind her at the clinic but that wasn't the moment because she could still remember her feelings from that moment and they weren't romantic but they were so special because they reminded her of when she was five and her brother came running to protect her from the boys who were surrounding her and shoving her and calling her names she didn't understand because of things she vaguely understood her mother was doing and she felt she had someone she could rely on who would protect her and support her and hearing and seeing Otis in the clinic standing there in that really nice suit and it was the same suit he had worn to the dance and no wonder she felt so extra happy seeing him even if it was with Ola because when he was standing there in that beautiful suit with those ridiculously wonderful flowers she thought she had again found someone she could rely on who would protect her and support her and it must have been before the pool because she remembered how she felt when she pushed him into the pool and how she felt when she was wrestling with him in the pool even if she didn't recognise at the time what she was feeling when she was wrestling with him in the pool but after the almost-kiss on the bridge she remembered thinking a lot about their minutes in the pool and when rewriting in her head the almost-kiss on the bridge to oh so many varied and oh so much happier endings became a little too repetitive she started to rewrite in her head their minutes in the pool to oh so many varied and oh so much happier endings and she remembers wistfully thinking oh so many times lately since things were going bad with Jackson that their minutes in the pool would have been the perfect time for their first oh so wonderful kiss and when she thinks about those minutes she is certain she would have kissed him if only Otis hadn't been acting so weird after she stopped him impersonating the cookie monster and ran her fingers down his fac—

..

..

_Oh, crap!_

..

..

He was already in love with her and she had shoved her boobs in his face and…

..

..

_Oh, crap!_

_.._

..

_Oh, you poor muppet, Otis!_

* * *

Maeve drifted away from the pixies to see Otis staring at her, puzzled smile on his face.

"This is Ground Control to Major Maeve. Can you hear me, Major Maeve?"

Maeve startled and wondered how many of her recent thoughts were blaring across her face.

"Sorry, off with the pixies," she said and turned quickly to lean her elbows on the wall and stare across the field.

"They must have been pretty funny."

"What?"

"I have never seen you smile like that."

"You haven't been looking. I'm always smiling. See?" She turned quickly and gave him a terse grimace then returned her gaze to the field, looking across to her right, hoping to hide as much of her face as she could and wondering if she could get away with removing the band holding her pony tail in place without looking as if she was only removing the band holding her pony tail in place because she wanted to hide her face and cursing herself for not wearing her hair down that morning.

She tried to convince herself that she was only trying to protect Otis from being embarrassed if he found out she was thinking about him that way and she certainly wasn't embarrassed that it had taken her this long to realise the effect she had had on him in the pool that day.

Otis sidled a couple of paces along the wall and leant in _too-close-at-this-moment-Otis_ toward her and murmured nonchalantly, "You also giggled."

She gave him a quick glare. "I don't giggle."

"What were you thinking about?"

"Nothing."

"There's something very peculiar about people who stand around smiling and giggling to themselves about nothing."

"It was just… something I thought about. I found it funny, that's all."

She could feel his sceptical smiling stare boring into her but she wasn't going to crack. Nosiree. He could stare at her all day and she would just keep staring across the field. Oh, look! Cows! She liked cows!

"I'll tell you later," she said.

She knew he was still staring.

"Someday," she said.

_Otis, will you stop staring!_

"Maybe," she said.

He could go to the Olympics for Staring.

Maeve felt rather than saw Otis had sidled a couple of paces away again and when she finally looked at him he was staring across the field, a soft smirk on his face. No, not a smirk. A soft smile.

She wondered if he was feeling as content as she was. She hoped so.

* * *

Maeve leant against the wall and watched as students filtered slowly onto school grounds. She sighed and wished she could stay here with Otis all day. It had been a really shitty yesterday and she wanted to continue enjoying what was right now a really wonderful today.

The thought of yesterday prompted her to lean her head back and turn to Otis and stare gently at him until he noticed and turned his blue eyes to her, a soft smile on his lips.

"What?" he asked.

"What did you try on me?"

He straightened and turning to her, puzzlement creasing his face. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you gave Jackson all the book and music stuff? So what did you try on me to push me closer to him?" There was only idle curiosity in her voice.

Otis straightened and she could see he felt it as an accusation. "Nothing."

"I'm just wondering, Otis, that's all. I'm not accusing you," she said, gently.

There was soft indignation in his voice. "Nothing, Maeve. I didn't try anything on you."

There was a soft edge of sceptical amusement in her voice. She'd built a bridge. She was over it. But she _was_ curious. "No, no, muppet. Tell me everything, I said."

His voice carried a gentle pleading edge. "I've told you everything, Maeve. I tried nothing with you. Nothing. I swear. I swear."

"I swear, too, Otis. Means I'm tough. _Real_ tough. So… you know… watch it if you don't tell me everything." She wagged her finger at him, lips pursed in a smile, eyes glittering.

He looked at her in confusion and frustration, searching for the words he seemed to think he could never find and she could see dread rising within him.

She took pity on him and tried to jog his memory. "You were hinting that I should go out with Jackson?"

He was genuinely puzzled. "When?'

She leaned forward to stare at him, prompting. "Going on and on about 'What's wrong with boyfriends? What's wrong with boyfriends?'"

Realization dawned in his eyes and relief swept through him and Maeve leant back, satisfied.

He smiled fondly at her. "No, Maeve, that… that wasn't… that was about _you_."

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Well," he paused as he searched for the words and when he found them his face lit up and he pointed at her and continued. "You were attracted to Jackson. I don't think you can deny it. I saw it. Before all the book stuff, I'd see you looking at him and it felt like it was the same look that must have been on my face every time I looked at you when you couldn't see me."

She had shrunk away from his words as he spoke but he could see she wasn't denying the truth of them even as she lowered her eyes from his and stared down at her hands.

"You wanted more than just sex with Jackson," Otis continued.

Maeve picked at an unruly bit of thumbnail and shrugged, pouting and refusing to look at him.

"At least you thought about it and wondered," Otis said. "But…"

He paused and studied her, wondering if he was about to overstep a boundary but when she looked up at him to query the silence he decided the risk was worth taking and stepped towards her so he was almost pressed against her arm.

"But you can be so down about yourself sometimes, Maeve," he said softly and gently.

She seemed startled, as if she was suddenly standing naked before him while wanting people to comment on her stunning new gown. "What do you mean?"

Otis looked down at her, hazy memories of a girl in a bathtub washing through him. "You said you didn't want to go out with Jackson because he was 'Jackson'. He was the great amazing champion athlete, beloved head boy, dream crush of half the kids in school. And I'm not mocking him, Maeve. He really is a great guy, despite…" He shrugged, waved his hands about a little.

Maeve raised her head and looked steadily into Otis' blue eyes. "He's not a god walking among us, Otis. He's just a guy. He's got his problems. Life isn't easy for him, either, feeling he has to live up to other people's expectations."

Otis nodded and waited until he was sure she was not going to say anything more before continuing. "And then there was you saying you were a grotty, stinky whatever. But can't you see, Maeve? You are just as incredible as Jackson. More so. He's got his family supporting him, the school lifting him up. You've got your brother, but—"

"Not anymore." Her voice was so small and so sad.

Otis hitched a breath and looked at her warily and waited.

"He took off before I got home last night," she eventually said.

He swallowed and placed his hand gently on her arm. "That shows what I mean. You get no support from family, the school's on your case, people you trust betray you and let you down – and I'm including me, Maeve. I'm definitely including me."

She looked into his eyes and gently shook her head.

"But you're still here, you still have a home, you still go to class, you get good grades and you have an astonishing ability to write."

Maeve pursed her lips, not trusting herself to speak.

He smiled gently down at her. "You're the exact opposite of grotty. Always economically fashionable with unimpeachable taste."

He waved one hand up and down to indicate he was referring to her fringed jacket and comfortably loose top and skirt and she smiled appreciatively.

He didn't realise he had taken one of her hands in both of his as he leaned in and murmured, "Seriously, Maeve, I know I'm biased but you always look incredible."

She stared gently at her hand clasped in his and wished it could remain there forever.

Otis leaned in even closer and she raised her head higher to study his face so close to hers. "And you're not—" He gave two ostentatious sniffs then snatched his head away, grimacing with a smile. "—you're not very stinky at all. Not really."

She made a face at him and snatched her hand away, but her eyes were smiling.

He was surprised to realise he had been holding her hand but continued, 'And even though the lies they say about you hurt, you are strong enough that you never ever let them see it. You're smart, you're funny, you're determined, you're inventive, you're kind—"

She snorted.

"I'm serious, Maeve. You were really kind to Ruby. You've shown a lot of kindness to me since we first bumped into each other."

"Yeah. I called you a moron and a snowflake and told you to fuck off."

Otis smiled.

Maeve shrugged and smiled back at him. "I suppose that _was_ kind, since I could have said—"

"You reminded me I was late for class and gave me a couple of friendly nicknames. That's how I remember it."

She shook her head and rolled her eyes and smiled.

Otis lowered his voice again. "You're under an enormous amount of pressure in your life, Maeve, but that pressure hasn't broken you, it's made you a diamond."

She swallowed and wished she could kiss him without freaking him out.

"You're simply amazing, Maeve. Eric was right. You're the coolest person in school. Even cooler because most of those cretins are too imbecilic to even understand a fraction of how cool you are."

She blinked and smiled. "Eric said I was cool?"

"Yes, but he also said you were a scary fish which kind of takes points away from the coolness comment."

She thought for a moment. "No, it doesn't."

"Anyway, that's just a couple of examples of your kindness. Look how kind you are allowing this fool to keep saying he loves you and you don't ever let me see how uncomfortable that must make you feel."

She looked up into his oblivious eyes and did not speak.

"I'll stop doing it," Otis whispered.

_Oh, you poor muppet, Otis!_

_Haven't you got it yet?_

* * *

**Author's Notes: The next chapter will definitely take a few days since I only have a few brief scenes and I have to go back to the most obscene four-letter-word in the English language. Work.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Notes: 'Maeve Wiley' is a great name for a character.**

* * *

**Chapter 5**

Maeve sat on the bench opposite their wall and grimaced as she shook her lighter then raised it to the tip of her cigarette. She took a few puffs and made sure the smoke was blowing away from Otis.

She studied him as he idly gazed over the landscape beyond the wall, wrapped in his thoughts, and multiple scenarios ran through her head as she pondered ways of telling him without freaking him out and came up with nothing that didn't end badly.

She loved him. Any reaction she could imagine was fine with her as well as, she hoped, any she couldn't, but she knew it was too soon for him to feel comfortable letting her see too much of his inexperience and confusion and vulnerability. She needed to find a place with those four walls of trust he spoke about, either real or imagined, where he could safely experience any reaction he had to her words without him feeling he had let himself down in her eyes and she couldn't think of any such place.

She sighed softly to herself and forced her mind to leave her dilemma for the moment, hoping inspiration would strike soon.

She suddenly remembered a message from ancient history and said, "Jackson says he's sorry, by the way."

She was pleased to see a flash of anger flicker across Otis' face but he only nodded in acknowledgement and was silent.

"He'll tell you himself but he just wanted me to pass it on _now_. So you know he was."

Otis nodded flatly then frowned and turned to study her. "You broke up with him."

She nodded. "Yeah."

"I'm—"

"Don't say sorry."

He fell silent and simply studied her.

"It's not because of this… well, it _is_ because of this but… it would have happened anyway. We were just… It was ending. Might have ended at the dance if things hadn't blown up."

"Why?" he asked then berated himself. "No, sorry, not my business."

She smiled softly at him. "Probably because it wasn't real. No, it _was_ real… A lot of it was real, but… I don't know… He's just not the guy I really want anymore..."

He was silent and she hoped he was wondering exactly who the guy she wanted was.

"I really did think you were pushing me to be with him with all the talk about boyfriends," she continued. "And when he was singing in the caff and I could see you looking at me I thought you were urging me to go for it. Take a chance. Step outside myself."

Otis turned to her. "When I heard the announcement I knew what was going to happen and I came to try to stop it but it was too late."

She looked quizzically at him until he noticed.

"I was talking with a client and told her you can't engineer a relationship and that's what Jackson was doing with my help and I realized I had to do the right thing and stop it and tell you. But when you accepted it there seemed no reason for me to say anything. You seemed happy. I thought things had worked out and it was okay. And telling you would just spoil it."

She smiled softly at him. "It _was_ okay. I _was_ happy. Not head over heels fairytale romance happy but I was happy. Happy enough. I don't regret being with him. Well, I do regret being with him but not for the reason you'll think."

"What reason?"

"I'll tell you someday."

He nodded and shrugged and they both turned to gaze across the landscape beyond the wall.

"If I _had_ given Jackson the double-barrels would you really have told me?" she eventually asked.

Otis sighed. "I would have wanted to. I would have thought about it. But I don't know if I would have been too much of a coward to actually do it. Probably I would have been a coward."

"Probably a good thing I said yes, then. If you told me back then I don't think I would have wanted to forgive you."

She watched him swallow before he turned to her and gave her a small smile of acknowledgement.

She shrugged. "Maybe I would have."

She pouted. "I hope I would have."

She fell silent and Otis turned away to the landscape again.

"Just don't do it again," she said. "Come and tell me next time."

He thought for a moment then dropped his head and smiled and leaned closer to her.

"Fred Highmarker came up to me a while back and said he liked you and wanted to know how he can get you to dump Jackson for him."

"Did you take the case?"

"No, of course not," he said, indignantly.

Maeve shook her head. "You're a lousy businessman. You could have said the job was finally done and taken the money."

He turned to look at her, puzzled. "Do you want to go out with Fred Highmarker?

"No, but I need the money."

Otis smiled. "I did tell him if you were ever single I would let you know how he felt and if you said it was okay, I'd tell him he could go ahead and try to ask you out. I don't know if I should have said even that. I hate ethical dilemmas."

She was silent but smiling softly.

"So should I go ahead and tell him?"

She shrugged. "If you think he's good enough for me."

"I could plan a really Big Grand Gesture for him."

"Don't you dare."

"Now what's something that hasn't been done before?"

"Fuck off."

He laughed and she smiled secretly at the sound.

"Don't go and tell him. He's not the one I want," she finally said.

He thought for a moment then spoke cautiously.

"Maeve, if you need money to tide you over, I can lend you some if you like."

"I'm not a charity case, Otis."

"I never thought you were, but you _are_ a friend."

She was silent for a moment. "Ask me tomorrow."

"Okay."

"And thanks."

They were silent again until she finally had to ask.

"I still don't get it, Otis. Why did loving me stop you from telling me about Jackson?"

Otis sighed and took a long moment before speaking. "I didn't want you to know."

"I've kind of figured that, dummy. But why…?"

"Because you would never be interested in me like that and I was afraid you'd push me away."

A wave of anger surged through her. "Don't tell me who I would or wouldn't be interested in," she snapped and watched him jump.

"I'm sorry," he said quickly, startled.

"Sorry for snapping." She didn't sound sorry.

Otis felt as if he had suddenly stumbled blindly into an unseen minefield and said nothing.

"You get me pretty well, Otis, but you clearly don't understand everything about me."

"I know," he said slowly.

She relaxed and studied the fingernails on the hand closest to him. "If you came up to me talking about Sylvia Plath or listening to Bikini Kill, you don't know how I'd react."

He hesitated and confessed. "I did kind of buy a copy of _The Bell Jar_ and read it. And I brought out dad's old Nirvana albums and listened to them a few times until it became too painful after you got together with Jackson. And I rented 'Who's Afraid Of Virginia Woolf?' but I think I misunderstood that one."

She pouted a smile at him then pressed her lips together. "There, see? You could have used all that stuff you did know about me to try to 'get' me? You could have intrigued me more than you already were."

"But it would have been just as fake as Jackson. I don't think I liked _The Bell Jar_."

"You didn't read it properly."

He nodded in agreement. "Well, I was kind of thinking about you while I was reading it and may have been a bit distracted with… other thoughts."

Maeve's eyes glittered as she hoped she knew exactly what other thoughts he may have been thinking.

Otis looked blandly at her smile then his eyes widened suddenly as he realized and he began twitching like he had sat on a live wire. "No… Maeve… Not… those thoughts… I would never… That would be… objectification and I… I did dream, but… no, no, I didn't dream of… pants—not pants-… and… it was thoughts of-"

"Otis," she said, firmly but gently, a smirk on her face.

He stopped twitching and looked at her, horrified and embarrassed.

"Shut up," she said and raised her eyebrows as if to add "Ok?"

He nodded and settled down but he couldn't look at her.

She studied him gently in his discomfort.

"It's okay for you to think of me like that, Otis," she said, gently. "I don't mind."

She could see he couldn't or wouldn't understand her real meaning and she wished she could resent him for making it so difficult for her to say those three little words when he had already said them to her but she couldn't. She couldn't.

"Why do you think I wouldn't be interested in you like that?" she asked eventually, genuinely curious.

He put his foot on the mine without thinking. "Because you are so much higher up on the food chain than I am."

She frowned. That sounded like something she was going to be really annoyed about. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Let's not talk about this," he urged, hoping the next minefield had flashing neon signs and a blaring horn and someone yelling at him through a megaphone to turn back before he took another step.

She shook her head firmly. "No, honesty, muppet, remember?"

He looked at her and saw that there was no escape and closed his eyes and braced himself and put his foot on the next mine. "You're a lion and I'm a kangaroo."

"What?"

Otis sighed and struggled to find the words and she pondered and in a flash of inspiration knew exactly what he was trying not to say.

She huffed in disbelief and glared at him, really annoyed. "Do you think I'm that shallow, Otis? I can only fall for someone with the abs and the glutes and that whole package?"

He kicked himself for not thinking of that implication and turned to her in horror. "No, Maeve, no. You're not shallow. You're one of the deepest people I think I know. I love Eric but the conversations I've had with you have been the deepest and most meaningful I've ever had with anyone."

She held her glare for a moment then softened and watched him relax a little. "Same for me."

There was silence between them for a while.

"Don't put yourself down either, Otis," she finally said. "You're amazing."

He snorted.

"_And_ you're cute and handsome."

"You're very kind, Maeve," he said, skeptically appreciative.

"There's no reason I wouldn't fall in love with you," she murmured and wished he would understand.

"That's what the argument with Ola was about," he eventually said with a sigh as he passed the neon sign without seeing it.

"What?"

"She thought we'd been dating and I told her, no, because…" He waved his hand a little. "Then I said you were a lion and I was a kangaroo."

She looked at him, eyes wide with anticipated dread. "What did you call Ola?"

He cringed and said, "I called her a goat."

She threw her head back in disbelief. "Bloody hell, Otis."

Quickly. "But then I said she was a housecat."

Maeve sat in stunned silence for a few moments then asked, "What did _she_ say?"

"'You're not a kangaroo, Otis. You're an arsehole.'"

"Too bloody right you're an arsehole."

Otis swallowed and nodded in pained agreement.

"You owe her an apology."

He nodded and sighed and reached for his pocket to take out his phone.

"Later," she commanded.

He moved his hand away from his pocket as if burned.

Maeve was still shaking her head in disbelief. "How can you be so wise and insightful when it comes to so much and still be that thick?"

Otis shrugged and kept quiet, hoping that if he remained in the one spot he would be safe because a minefield wouldn't suddenly be leaping at him.

"'GOAT' means 'Goddess Of All Things'," Maeve finally said.

* * *

Otis stared across the field beyond the wall, grateful that minefields hibernated in silence.

Maeve stared across the field beyond the wall, marveling at the contradictions in this man she was in love with and how he could have so much compassion for and understanding of other people and yet so little for himself.

The silence was broken by a delighted masculine squeal behind them and Maeve and Otis leapt to their feet and turned to see a grinning Eric walking toward them.

"Are you two friends again?" Eric asked, looking between them hopefully.

Otis spoke first. "I've just come to apologize to Maeve for hurting her and we're just seeing if I can ever be lucky enough to call her my friend again."

Maeve shook her head and rolled her eyes and said, "Yes, we're friends again, Eric."

Eric turned to Maeve and said, conspiratorially, "He gives good apology, doesn't he?"

She glanced at Otis and smiled and nodded in agreement.

"I'm having a lot of practice lately," Otis said regretfully.

"You need to try not having to practice at all," Eric replied, drily.

"Yes, well, I've told Maeve everything about the situation with Jackson and I'm not presuming but if she's ever going to trust me again from now on I know I have to be completely honest with her. So hopefully no more apologies necessary."

"Good plan." Eric glanced at Maeve and made sure she couldn't see his lips then murmured in Otis' ear, "I bet you haven't told Maeve you love her, yet."

Otis raised his voice to prove he wasn't concealing anything from Maeve. "Yes, Eric, I _have_ told Maeve I love her."

Startled, Eric looked at Maeve who nodded, smiling.

"I actually told her last night. I just didn't tell you," Otis said.

Eric stared at Maeve in near-disbelief.

"He told you he loved you?"

She nodded.

"Did he faint?"

She shook her head.

"Did he have a panic attack?"

She grimaced and wavered her hand a little. "Sort of."

"Did he go that combination of green and yellow that looks as if he should be playing for Norwich City."

She grinned and shook her head again.

Eric frowned at her. "And you're okay with him saying that?"

"Maeve has been kind enough to not run screaming from the thought, Eric," Otis said exasperatedly, stepping away to look over the field, back turned to them.

Maeve nodded and Eric's eyes began to light up with understanding and he was about to let out another squeal until he saw Maeve vigorously shake her head.

Eric stared at her open mouthed as she bit her lip and her eyes silently pleaded with him then he turned to look at Otis.

"Um, I have to go try and catch Mr Hendrix before his first Irish coffee so I can apologize to him but I'll catch you later."

He looked at Maeve and mouthed: _Both of you._

Maeve nodded and Eric smiled and she gave him a grateful smile in return.

Eric checked to see he wasn't looking then pointed at Otis and mouthed to Maeve: _Best friend. Thick as a brick._

She nodded and smiled and then had a thought and called, "Wait, Eric."

Eric looked at her quizzically as she walked up to him and said, "I actually need to do something before first bell but I need to tell Otis something now and I'm not sure how he'll take it. Would you be able to stay with him just in case he freaks out? You could catch up with Mr Hendrix later."

Otis turned to look at her with concern. "Maeve…?" he asked.

"Oh, it's nothing bad, Otis. Promise."

Eric looked at her questioningly and she nodded and he smiled, holding back a squeal.

"Wouldn't miss this for the world," he said softly to her.

Maeve walked to Otis and tried to hide her smile at his worried look. "I won't be long. I'll meet you at the lockers, okay?"

"Okay."

She took a deep breath and looked calmly into his eyes. "There's just one more thing you need to do for me, first."

"Anything."

"Give me a hug," she said gently.

Otis took a moment to register his surprise then stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her and felt her arms around him in the way he had longed to feel again these past few months. They felt even better this time.

Maeve spoke gently into his ear. "In case you're not getting it, because, you know, you can be a bit thick sometimes, muppet, I've forgiven you for everything. I'm not mad anymore. Well, maybe a little bit, but that's nothing. I'll be over it in an instant. By lunchtime. No more being mad at my cookie monster." She took a deep breath and lit the fuse. "I'm in love with my cookie monster the same way he's told me he's in love with me."

She stepped back to look directly into his beautifully startled eyes and held his hands gently.

"Would you be my boyfriend?"

Otis nodded, dumbstruck.

"May I kiss you?"

"Yes," he whispered.

She smiled and stepped forward again and softly kissed him and soared as he gently kissed her back.

When their first kiss was over and with Otis' blue eyes shining at her as a soft euphoric smile played across his lips, Maeve gently released his hands and said, "See you later, boyfriend."

She turned and, smiling to herself, walked away. As she passed Eric, who had been valiantly struggling to suppress his squeal, she said, "Don't let him break himself."

Eric smiled broadly and nodded and watched her depart then turned back to Otis who was still reflecting blissfully on their first kiss.

Eric stepped forward and was about to speak but he noticed something and his smile fell away and he stopped and simply stared at Otis until Otis looked at him, quizzically.

"You have a boner."

* * *

**Author's Notes: Of course he does.**

**I needed to deal with the canonical result of his first kiss and I needed it to happen before dealing with the events of Episode 1.8 and this was the least stupid thing I could come up with.**

**Sorry.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Notes: I've tried but I don't think I can do any better than this. Hope it doesn't drag too much.**

**For those who want a possible version of events directly after the end of the last chapter, 'Aftermath Of A Kiss' is an AU to this AU.**

**And, yes, I do know the meaning of the word 'frustrating'.**

* * *

**Chapter 6**

Maeve transferred items from her bag to her locker and wondered for the umpteenth time since she had parted from her new boyfriend if she should have waited until after school before telling him and kissing him. She had felt Otis' reaction as they kissed – and after the pool she knew _that_ was a very strong possibility and she should have been putting more emphasis on the actual timing of telling him and kissing him rather than simply the method – but she had been wanting to tell him and wanting to kiss him and when the idea of using Eric's presence to help calm Otis came to her she was too impatient for second thoughts or deeper consideration.

After she walked away, however, and she thought about the kiss and thought about his reaction to the kiss and she remembered his reaction in the pool when the touch of her fingers on his eyebrows and his cheeks clearly must have caused the same unbidden response and then remembered his horrified embarrassment earlier in the morning when he confessed through denial that he had dreamt about her in that way, she began to wonder if she had made a mistake and she wondered if having to deal with that reaction to their kiss while at school would only cause him more distress.

She hoped not. She hoped he had heard her tell him it was okay to think of her like that and that he realised that sort of reaction was normal and desired and nothing to be ashamed of and whatever he had to do to get rid of the evidence of his arousal was okay with her and she wished she had considered that the safe space with the four walls of trust needed to also encompass the aftermath of the aftermath.

She sighed, stopped her thoughts drifting through it for the umpteenth plus one time since she could not change anything now and put the last needed book in her bag and closed the door to her locker and recoiled when she saw Otis leaning against the lockers beside hers, soft smile on his lips, gazing at her with soft clear blue eyes.

"Shit," she said.

"Payback for all the times you did that to me, girlfriend," Otis said as she recovered her composure and warmth tingled through her at the sound of that word from his voice.

She smiled at him and studied him gently, noticing a confidence and ease she was not expecting. Perhaps she had been worrying unnecessarily and letting him know she loved him in return had allowed him to give himself permission to desire her that way. Perhaps Eric had convinced him it was perfectly normal.

"So, you didn't break yourself, then?" she asked, eyes flickering across his face.

"No," he murmured, frowning in amusement at the phrase.

"Sorry," she said softly, biting her lip. "I probably should have waited until after school but I wanted to kiss you so badly."

For a moment she thought he was about to lean forward to kiss her and anticipation soared but then he gave a small smile and slight shrug and she realized he would not yet be comfortable with such a public display of affection and the moment passed.

"Did you have a panic attack?" she asked, gently testing the waters.

"Sort of," he said, glancing slightly away from her and she knew that his confidence wasn't quite as secure as he was trying to project.

"What did you do to get through it?" Maeve asked, as innocently as she could.

"Oh, deep breathing exercises. Alphabetized my music collection. That sort of thing," Otis said, as airily as he could, glancing at her then away again.

Maeve nodded and pursed her lips in a gentle smile and wondered if it was only a nice euphemism. "Feel better?"

"I feel…" he began then looked directly into her eyes. "I feel as if I've never truly seen you until just now, Maeve."

Maeve felt her breath steal away at his tone and she was glad her reaction was not as visible as his and then he surprised her by revealing exactly how tissue thin his confidence and ease really were.

"Not that I'm reducing you to your physical characteristics, Maeve. I would never—"

She dropped her head and smiled softly to herself and found this side of Otis just as desirable as the new one he had been projecting.

"I mean, you're a complete person and I love—"

"Otis, Otis" she murmured, stepping toward him and placing her hand gently on his chest. "Don't overthink things. If you think I scrub up well then you think I scrub up well and there's nothing wrong with that. _You_ scrub up well."

"I don't like the idea I might be objectifying you, Maeve."

She smiled fondly at him. "Otis, in all the time I've known you I've never once seen you objectify me."

"Maybe because I've only ever done it when you're not looking."

"You've heard the term, Otis, but I don't think you've ever truly understood it. But that can be a deep and meaningful for another day. Today, just go with whatever you're feeling."

She stepped back, removing her hand from his chest and watched him as he looked uncertainly at her.

After a moment, he leant back against the lockers, head raised toward the ceiling. "I don't know why people come to me for advice when I don't know anything."

"That's not true, muppet. You know so much, you understand so much. You just seem a little confused when it comes to yourself, that's all."

He snorted. "'A teacher teaches what they need to learn.'"

"What?"

"Something mum said to me once."

She studied him gently. "You need an Otis of your own."

"Do you think they sell me in Tesco?"

"They don't sell prize collectibles in Tesco, Otis."

"I'm sorry I'm so messed up, Maeve," he sighed.

Maeve leaned in closer, looking directly into his eyes so he could not escape her gaze and said, firmly, "Don't you dare apologise for being you, Otis."

He smiled softly at her and nodded and she could see the conflict between his desire to kiss her again and his concern that he would again have the same reaction to deal with.

"I've fallen in love with you as you are," she said.

Maeve saw his eyes fall to her lips and the nervousness she could see within him shifted and lost the battle with the desire and he started to lean toward her and she was amazed he was really considering such a public display of affection and she felt the anticipation rise within her and she ignored the guilty voice warning her to think of the possible downside for her new boyfriend and she lifted her head and her lips began to part.

"You sure you really want to do that, Otis?"

Startled, Maeve and Otis jumped back as Eric stepped up to stand directly beside them.

"Jesus!" said Otis.

"Christ!" said Maeve.

"You don't want to have another panic attack right here in the hallway," Eric admonished gently.

Maeve calmed her breathing and said, "Thanks for helping him through it, Eric, but your timing… Right now? Not the best."

"So, have you planned your first date yet?" Eric asked.

"Eric, give us a chance…" Otis said.

"At least it will be a definite date this time." Eric turned to Maeve. "Unless you let him down again."

"Eric…" Otis protested.

"What do you mean?" asked Maeve, puzzled.

"First time you asked him somewhere he was so expecting sushi and all you wanted was for him to carry a package for you. He was so disappointed."

Otis glanced between Maeve and Eric, horrified. "I was not. I was not, Maeve. Eric-"

"He got all dressed up in his best suit and everything. Looked like Jon Hamm," Eric continued.

Otis didn't notice Maeve hitch a deep breath and stare softly at him. _Even back that far. Oh, you poor muppet, Otis._

"Maeve, don't listen to Eric…" Otis looked at her and stopped as he saw the gently adoring gaze in his new girlfriend's eyes.

"Casual Hamm," Maeve murmured.

Otis frowned slightly in remembrance.

Eric glanced along the hallway and saw the person he needed to see. "Oh, there's Mr Hendrix. Gotta go," he said, hurrying away, calling back, "Behave."

Maeve and Otis barely noticed him leave.

"That's not the day I fell in love with you, Otis," Maeve finally said. "But it's the day I knew I wanted you as my friend forever."

Otis could not bring himself to speak.

"I still have the flowers," Maeve said quietly. "Dried them out. Kept them."

Otis cringed at the memory. "I was an idiot."

"You were perfect," she whispered, stepping toward him, hand resting gently on his chest and she saw his desire for her once again defeat his caution and their heads moved closer together and their breathing slowed in anticipation and their lips parted again.

"Are you two an item now?"

Startled, Maeve and Otis jumped back as Aimee stepped up to stand directly beside them.

"Jesus!" said Maeve.

"Christ!" said Otis.

"You've got the vibe of being an item," Aimee said, looking wide-eyed between them.

Maeve calmed her breathing and said, smiling, "Yes, Aimee, we're an item now."

"Fantastic," said Aimee, looking at Maeve. "Well done, you."

Aimee turned to Otis. "Oh, and you. She's amazing, isn't she?"

Otis stared softly at Maeve and murmured, "She's magnificent."

"So you got rid of Jackson, then?" Aimee turned to Maeve and asked.

"We broke up. Last night," Maeve nodded, not taking her eyes from Otis'.

"And you didn't waste any time wallowing. Good for you."

"I've already waited too long," Maeve said quietly.

Aimee glanced around and noticed The Untouchables turning the corner. "Oh, better catch up before they notice I'm gone."

Aimee looked directly at Otis, smiling, then turned to Maeve and said, "Pleasure Master," before hurrying away.

"Well, she seems happy for us," Maeve said as Aimee disappeared around the corner following the rest of The Untouchables.

Otis glanced around then turned back to Maeve. "I don't understand her. She seems so nice but she hangs around with The Untouchables."

"Please don't say anything bad about Aimee. She was my only real friend until you came along."

"She sits there while they say those shitty things about you."

"She doesn't need to be punished for hanging around with me."

"I just think you deserve—"

"Please don't let our first fight be about Aimee."

"It wouldn't be our first fight," Otis said quietly.

"First fight as boyfriend and girlfriend."

"She did like my Hedwig outfit," he said after a pause.

"If you had kept the wig on she would have loved it. Like I did."

Otis smiled gently at her and again she could see his caution overpowered by his desire and he leaned forward and as his lips parted she tilted her head up to meet his.

"I need your help."

Startled, Maeve and Otis jumped back as Lily stepped up to stand directly beside them, staring at Otis.

"Jesus!" said Maeve.

"Christ!" said Otis.

"Who the fuck are you?" snapped Maeve.

"Can't you see I am with Maeve now?" Otis hissed, the angriest Maeve had ever heard him.

"Well, I hope she has better luck than I did," Lily said.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Maeve snarled.

Lily ignored Maeve and kept her focus on Otis.

"I need your help," Lily repeated. "You know, your sex clinic thing."

Maeve said, "The clinic's closed today so get lost."

Lily kept her focus on Otis and said, "I didn't tell anyone. You owe me."

Maeve was about to say something more but Otis gently put his hand on her arm and she pursed her lips to keep the words confined.

"It's okay, Maeve. Lily's right. I owe her a consultation."

"What for?"

"I'll tell you later."

Maeve stared at him for a moment then pursed her lips in a smile and leaned in to whisper in his ear. "You better not tell me she's your bit on the side."

Otis' eyes gleamed mischievously and he whispered into Maeve's ear, "We've only been together half an hour so wouldn't that make _you_ my bit on the side?"

Maeve gasped at his audacity and her eyes glittered as she said with a smile, "You are so going to pay for that, Milburn."

"This is all very sweet in a vaguely nauseating kind of way but when can we start?" Lily's voice interrupted them.

Maeve turned to glare at Lily and bit back her initial response. "Meet Otis in the old toilet block at lunch. Don't be late."

Lily nodded and turned to her. "You know, I'd really lower expectations if I were you. Like sub-sub-basement lower. At least."

"Push off," said Maeve, annoyed. "Before I change his mind."

Lily walked away and Otis turned to Maeve, face as bland as he could make it. "See, I said you were kind, Maeve."

"She scared the crap out of me," Maeve said, defensively.

"Welcome to my world," Otis muttered.

The Headmaster's voice came over the tannoy: _Maeve Wiley and Otis Milburn to the Headmaster's office._

Otis and Maeve looked at each other, surprised.

"Do you think he knows about the clinic?" Otis asked, nervously.

"Maybe he's going to thank you for saving Liam's life," Maeve said.

"He's going to know I talked to Liam and next thing Liam is hanging off the moon."

"So? Sometimes when you talk to me I'm hanging off the moon."

"Maeve…" Otis sighed.

"Otis, the only time things have gone wrong is when Liam didn't listen to you and move on."

"And Adam."

"Not your fault Adam doesn't have a third brain cell to referee the other two."

"I don't know if I can do it anymore, Maeve," Otis said softly.

There was a moment, just a moment, that she hesitated then Maeve stepped forward and took Otis' hand and stared into his eyes. "Then don't."

"But, Maeve, that would mean—"

"Don't do it for me. I won't thank you for torturing yourself just for me."

Otis looked at her and thought for a moment. "How about we take a break this week? Start again next week. I can give you an advance of… four clients?"

There was a moment, just a moment, that she was tempted and then she swallowed and shook her head and said, "No, I'll manage."

Otis stared at her for an eternity then Maeve watched his eyes flicker to her lips and then he slowly leaned toward her again, lips parting as Maeve lifted her head to meet him.

"Didn't you hear the announcement?"

Startled, Maeve and Otis jumped back as Miss Sands stepped up to stand directly beside them.

"Shit!" said Otis.

"Fuck!" said Maeve.

"Go on. Get moving," said Miss Sands and walked away.

"I hate the Universe," muttered Otis.

"Let's just go see what he wants. Can't be that bad," Maeve sighed.

* * *

Otis sat on a chair outside the Headmaster's office, staring at what should have been Maeve's trophy and wishing he could be sitting beside her and a multitude of thoughts swirled through his mind from the clinic in general and Liam in particular and he kept thinking too many minutes had passed and when the door finally opened he rose to his feet as a subdued Maeve exited.

She glanced at him, eyes full of sadness.

"Maeve…?" Otis asked, concerned.

"Don't worry, you're not in trouble, but I don't think you want to be my boyfriend, Otis. I'll just drag you down into the shit with me."

Otis reached for her hand but she let her fingers slide from his grasp as she walked away.

"Milburn," said Groff but Otis simply stared after Maeve while sounds without meaning swirled around him until he heard the words "Get to class" and he hurried after her.

He found her sitting on their bench, staring at the wall, shoulders slumped, hands in her lap with her fingers fidgeting and it was the saddest he had ever seen anybody.

"Maeve…" he said softly as he approached.

She glanced at him and the bleakness in her eyes tore his heart out then he noticed her hand reaching out for him.

He sat beside her and gently took her hand and she latched onto his fingers and smiled sadly at him.

He sidled close to her and put his arm around her shoulders and felt her relax into him, leaning her head against his, letting their fingers entwine.

"What happened, Maeve?" Otis asked softly.

Eventually, Maeve quietly spoke, "My brother was selling drugs at the dance. I told Groff they were mine."

"Why?"

"Groff was going to call the police on Sean."

Maeve felt Otis' jaw clench but she was grateful he said not a word.

Maeve stared at their entwined fingers and used one of hers to gently stroke one of his.

"What did Groff say was going to happen?"

"Have to face an external tribunal. They'll probably expel me."

"You don't know that," Otis said and felt her tense slightly and he swallowed the rest of his words and after a moment felt her relax again.

"I knew the Aptitude Scheme was pie in the sky," she eventually said. "I knew I'd mess it up somehow."

Otis kept silent and hoped he had understood his mother when she talked about the time for listening and the time for speaking.

"I just hoped I wouldn't be living here in ten years."

Otis hoped that when the time for speaking came he would know what to say.

"Stupid fucking dance," Maeve said and the tears in her voice were clear.

Otis wished he could take her pain away.

"Stupid fucking dress," Maeve eventually spoke again.

After a moment, Otis said softly and cautiously, "I thought you looked really beautiful in that dress, Maeve."

She gave a small smile to herself. "Didn't scrub up too badly, did I?"

"You shone, Maeve," Otis said, quietly remembering seeing her in that dress for the first time.

"Jackson didn't even notice," Maeve said, flatly.

"He's a fool," Otis let slip free before clamping down on his tongue.

Maeve let an unseen smile cross her face and waited and finally said, "He's a fucking fool."

Otis bit his lip and sat in the silence with her.

Eventually, Maeve murmured, "Should have known it would be cursed."

"What do you mean?" Otis asked softly.

"Sean told people in the shop we were orphans so they bought it for me. Shitty memories from the start."

Otis closed his eyes and Maeve felt the tension as he struggled to keep quiet and she knew that her brother was never ever going to be worth anything in Otis' eyes. After a moment, she settled deeper into her new boyfriend.

"I was going to throw it away this morning but I forgot," she murmured.

She sensed Otis moving his head to glance down at her.

"Maybe I'll burn it. Go down the quarry and pour petrol on it and watch it burn."

She sensed Otis wanted to say something and moved her head slightly, trying to peer up at him.

"What?"

"Doesn't matter. I'll get the popcorn and we can watch it burn. But if the cops come, you're on your own, crazy lady."

She snorted a chuckle and asked, "What were you going to say, muppet?"

Otis paused for a moment, then began slowly. "I was just thinking… I know I'm part of the shitty memories you're associating with that dress-"

"Don't keep beating yourself up. You've made up for it, Otis," she said softly, shaking her head gently. "You and Aimee are the only bright spots in my shitty life at the moment."

He paused and swallowed then continued. "What if instead of burning the dress, we go somewhere fancy and… make some happy memories to associate with it. If you think that's possible, of course. Otherwise, just burn it."

She was silent for a long while, then asked, "Will there be dancing?"

Otis smiled softly to himself, relieved. "If you like."

"Slow dancing?"

"If that's what you want, Maeve."

"Will you be Casual Hamm?"

"Of course."

"Sounds nice," she almost purred. "Anywhere in mind?"

"We can google something later."

She settled even further into him and his arm around her shoulders felt like home.

Maeve gazed quietly at their entwined hands and at her finger still gently stroking his while Otis gazed across the field beyond the wall and reflected and pondered until a thought slowly formed.

"Would you like to come over for dinner tonight, Maeve?" he asked, tentatively.

Maeve raised her head from his shoulder and looked at him with mild curiosity. "With your crazy mum?"

"I'd like you to meet her."

Maeve pouted a smile. "I thought you liked me."

Otis smiled in appreciation. "I know I've gone on and on about her."

"And on and on," Maeve said, smirking softly.

"And on and on," continued Otis, smiling. "And she is annoying. And she does overstep. And I get really really frustrated with her sometimes because she doesn't seem to listen."

Maeve sensed a change in tone from the last time he had talked on and on about his mother and she wanted to ask but knew it wasn't yet the time.

"But she can be nice and funny when she isn't trying to therapize people," Otis continued. "I'll just tell her she's not allowed to pry and try to therapize you."

"Do you think she might want to adopt me?"

"God, no! I wouldn't inflict that on you."

Maeve paused and then smiled. "You just want her to see you have a girlfriend, don't you, so maybe she'll back off?"

"The thought may have occurred about that being a beneficial side-effect."

Maeve gazed at him gently for a few moments then murmured, "I'd like that, muppet. Thank you."

"Just… one thing…"

"What?"

"I'm not telling you what to do, Maeve," he began, cautiously, "but… when you went to dinner with Jackson's parents you looked different. Really nice, but not like you usually look. Whatever you choose I'm happy with, but I would like Mum to see the Maeve I know and love."

Maeve nodded in acceptance. "As long as you just let her be herself, too."

"You don't know what you're asking."

"I'm a big girl, Otis," she said. "I can fight my own battles."

"I know you can, Maeve," he said and hesitated momentarily before continuing. "I just hope you know you don't have to fight them alone."

Maeve gazed appreciatively into his eyes and when he started moving his head slowly forward she noticed there was none of the hesitation or nervousness she had noticed earlier and when they were finally lost in their second kiss and their third kiss and more kisses too numerous to count she was realising she was feeling a love for him that she was only just beginning to understand was already deeper than she had ever imagined was possible for her to experience.

* * *

**Author's Notes: One of the saddest bits of the series for me was seeing how much Maeve needed her [lots of very unkind and judgemental words] brother and how down about herself she was during their conversation in the final episode of the first season.**

**I tried to capture that mood in the second half of this chapter only with someone who actually cared about her. I hope I succeeded enough.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Notes: This chapter expands the story away from just Otis and Maeve scenes but each is always present in spirit if not body.**

**Warning: Contains teenage boys talking about sex by a bloke who was a teenage boy once.**

**Warning: Contains teenage girls talking about sex by a bloke who has never been a teenage girl and doesn't even have his nieces to ask "Does this sound remotely believable?"**

**You have been warned.**

* * *

**Chapter 7**

Maeve leaned against the wall by the door of the old toilet block and watched Lily as she emerged and walked through the gateway out of the surrounds without ever looking around. Maeve stared after her, pondering.

She took a puff from her cigarette then turned and walked inside the toilet block to see Otis leaning against the row of sinks, reading something on his phone.

"Can you help her?" Maeve asked, indifferently.

"I might have found something."

"Will it take long?"

"I'll have to see her after school for an hour or so."

"That's okay. I have to go home and have a shower and find a burlap sack to wear tonight."

Otis chuckled without looking up from his phone and Maeve smiled and leaned against a stall divider and puffed quietly away on her cigarette, occasionally glancing across at him.

"So who is she?" she eventually asked, trying for indifference.

Otis sighed, put his phone away and took a moment before he looked up at Maeve.

"She's the girl I tried to lose my virginity with."

Maeve was definitely not expecting that answer.

"Look, Maeve—" Otis began, stepping toward her.

"I'm not asking, Otis," Maeve said quickly. "That's your business."

"I just wanted to get it over with."

"You don't have to tell me anything."

"It was so much pressure," he said and the anguish in his voice was clear and Maeve wished she hadn't asked.

Otis sighed and fell silent and ogled the floor and Maeve gazed at him tenderly.

"It's okay, Otis," she said gently, hoping she wasn't going to step in it. "You told me you were a virgin and that's cool. I mean, I basically knew when you couldn't put a condom on a plastic cock."

"Oh, don't remind me of that day," Otis groaned and raised his head to face the ceiling.

Maeve smiled and her eyes gleamed. "You were so embarrassed and it was so cute."

Otis grimaced and put his fingers to his forehead as if he had a headache.

It took Maeve a moment to realise. "I mean, about the cock," she said quickly. "Embarrassed about the cock. The plastic cock."

Otis looked at her and nodded. "I know what you meant."

"The other wasn't… I'm sorry I laughed." Maeve grimaced with remorse.

Otis was genuinely puzzled. "What?"

"When I saw the video on my phone." She bit her lip. "I'm sorry."

Otis waved it off. "I don't even remember. All I remember is… _that_."

"I didn't really connect it with you until it was on the screen and you were…"

"Mortified?" he looked at her and said ruefully.

"Yeah," she frowned regretfully. "I think that's when I realised it probably _was_ your mum."

Otis shook his head and smiled softly at her. "You came after me, Maeve. That's what counts."

Maeve shrugged. "Only 'cause Hendrix told me to."

"But you actually came and found me. You could have just scarpered after you were out of the classroom."

Maeve blinked. "Never occurred to me."

"See? Kind," he said as he gazed at her adoringly and Maeve felt another piece of her heart be his forever.

After a moment, she murmured, "Is it kind that I'm glad that happened to you?"

Otis frowned. "Why?"

"Without that day we may never have started hanging out together."

Otis snorted silently and said drily, "Thank you, Adam."

"That, too," Maeve said softly. "Without that, without seeing you doing that for Adam, I would never have seen how amazing you are."

Otis nodded his understanding. "And I wouldn't have seen you stand up for me."

Maeve frowned, puzzled. "When?"

"You told Adam he owed me an apology."

She shrugged as the memory returned. "Well, you wouldn't have demanded it, would you?"

"See? Kind," said Otis as he smiled and stepped towards her and as he leant over her Maeve noticed there was a hesitancy in his eyes and when their lips met it was still beautiful and she was still sad it ended too soon but there was none of the ease there had been when they were snogging on their bench almost non-stop for an eternity.

Otis gave her a small soft smile after their kiss ended then stepped back and turned and walked across to look out the window.

Maeve bit her lip and studied him curiously, pondering.

"Did you like her?" she asked, cautiously.

"Who?" Otis asked without turning.

"Your freebie client," Maeve said, quietly.

"God, no! I think she's scarier than you were."

Maeve's eyes glittered as she pursed her lips and stared at Otis and watched as the realization dawned and he slowly turned and looked into her eyes.

"That's not the sort of thing I'm supposed to say about my girlfriend, is it?" he said, sheepishly.

"Could be useful information," Maeve smirked.

Otis smiled warmly and walked to lean against the stall divider directly opposite Maeve, staring gently into her eyes.

"So if you didn't like her…?" Maeve asked.

"She just wanted to get it over with, too. She wasn't interested in me. I was just… an organic dildo."

Maeve snorted a soft chuckle.

"And it was bad…" Otis continued.

"You don't have to tell me anything, Otis."

"Complete honesty, Maeve."

"About us, Otis. Not anything before."

Otis nodded and pondered for a few moments and was about to speak when they both heard the bell for next class ring in the distance.

* * *

Otis sat at his usual desk in the study room and looked up as Eric sat down beside him.

"So have you planned your first date yet?" Eric asked, eagerly.

"Maeve's coming for dinner tonight," Otis replied.

Eric frowned. "Wait. You're having dinner with your mother on your first date?"

Otis blinked and scrunched his face as he looked at Eric. "That's weird, isn't it?"

Eric shook his head and rolled his eyes and drily said, "It's very Otis."

Otis nodded in satisfaction. "Well, Maeve says she's in love with me as I am so I'm just being me. That's a good thing."

Eric glanced at Otis and felt a moment of almost wistful jealousy at his best friend's luck then he chuckled and asked, "Are you going to go around cleaning up all your mother's weird sex shit again?"

Otis paused and concentrated and pondered and was tempted then shook his head. "No. Complete honesty. I'm not going to pretend things aren't as they are."

"Are you sure? Maybe she'll see all those giant penises lying around and she'll look at you as you are and then it's 'Goodnight, Otis!'"

Otis quickly looked at Eric, concerned. "You mean she'll dump me?"

"No, I mean, she'll grab you and drag you upstairs to your room and you'll be having hot sweaty sex until your bed breaks."

Otis glanced around the study room and hissed, "Eric!"

"She'll have hit the trifecta."

Otis frowned at him. "What do you mean?"

"She caused your first wet dream, she finally caused you to properly wank and she'll be your first shag."

Otis huffed and threw his head back. "Eric!"

Eric paused and studied his best friend and let his exuberance fade and his voice lower and he leaned closer to Otis and softly asked, "You do want to have sex with Maeve, don't you?"

Otis hunched into himself and stared at the desktop for a while before admitting, "Yes, but…"

"But what?"

"I don't think I'm ready yet. I only just—"

Otis lowered his voice and clenched his teeth and lips together and failed to prevent the word escaping.

"—masturbated—"

Otis returned his voice to its previous level.

"—properly for the first time this morning. And I'm still not comfortable with it."

"Does she know?" Eric asked quietly.

Otis glanced sideways at Eric. "I think she suspects."

Eric nodded solemnly and said in his most serious tone, "And she thinks you're disgusting and gross and a pervert and there's something wrong with you and you're Hannibal Lecter."

Otis gave Eric a small smile through pursed lips. "She said I should just go with whatever I'm feeling."

Eric nodded approvingly. "Good advice. You should listen to her. She's smart."

Otis leant his elbows on the desktop and put his head in his hands and sighed, "I wish I wasn't so fucked up."

"Me, too," said Eric gently and after a moment continued, "I mean, I wish _you_ weren't so fucked up. I'm not fucked up."

Otis smiled and gently shoved a laughing Eric and Eric grabbed Otis' hand and their other hands came into play and they had a brief playful hand wrestle before settling down into silence for a few moments.

"So what did you tell her?" Eric eventually asked.

"That I took deep breaths and alphabetized my music collection," Otis shrugged and replied.

Eric tutted and shook his head with mock disapproval. "Not even an hour into your relationship and you already started lying to her again. You are a bad man, Otis Milburn."

Otis waved his hands in protest. "I did take deep breaths and I did alphabetize my music collection."

"How far did you get?" Eric asked, sceptically.

Otis smiled. "ABBA."

Eric laughed and shook his head. "So did you actually kiss her again?"

Otis glowed at the memory. "Yes. A lot."

"Did you have another panic attack?"

"No," Otis said and then realised. "Once," he said slowly, pondering. "But that was different. It wasn't an actual panic attack, but it was…"

Otis fell silent as he replayed and replayed their recent kisses and tried to find the thing he was missing.

His eye was captured by movement and he looked up to see Maeve and Aimee striding along the hallway toward the study room.

"Maeve…?" he muttered and hurried to the door of the study room just as they approached.

He was about to speak when Aimee – face as serious as he had ever seen it – held up her hand and said sternly, "Don't interrupt our dramatic exit."

Maeve grinned at the puzzled look on Otis' face and said with a laugh, "I'll explain later, muppet."

Maeve and Aimee disappeared around the next hallway corner and Otis turned to the direction they had come from and saw The Untouchables standing in the hallway looking like stunned mullets.

It was a good look on them, Otis thought.

Eric stepped up beside him, looking both ways along the corridor.

"What happened?" Eric asked.

"I think Aimee realised her true value and stopped slumming."

Eric frowned in puzzlement and glanced down and reacted at something he saw and then Otis felt something brush his bum and then Eric was holding out a folded piece of paper.

"What's this?" Eric asked, curious.

Otis took a moment to recognize it then took it from Eric as an idea began to form and he placed it in his jacket pocket.

Otis looked at Eric and said, smiling, "What were you doing looking at my bum?"

"I told you before, Otis. You are not my type. So stop flirting with me."

Otis grinned and nudged Eric with his shoulder and they commenced a playful nudging match in the study room doorway.

* * *

Maeve and Aimee sat at either end of the row of sinks in the old toilet block, each smoking a cigarette.

"So have you two done it yet?" Aimee asked.

Maeve laughed. "Give us a chance. We've only been together six hours."

"You could have brought him up here. Had it away."

"Here?" Maeve asked, incredulously.

"Yeah. Have you ever done it in here?"

Maeve shook her head. "No."

"Ooh, I have," Aimee said in a tone crossing a growl with a purr as memories returned and she continued enthusiastically, "It's, like, so disgusting in here that it's absolutely the last place you want to do it and somehow that makes it that much more intense. Like it's so wrong, it's right. I think I had the most orgasms I ever had in one round right here."

Maeve smiled and shook her head.

Aimee looked around and pointed. "Over there. Bruce Holman."

"That was a long time ago," Maeve murmured.

"Yeah," Aimee said, pursing her lips sadly. "Maybe the magic's worn off. I need to find another disgusting place."

Maeve laughed fondly. "You really _are_ dialled in from another planet, aren't you, Aimee?"

Aimee frowned. "Is that a bad thing?"

Maeve shook her head, smiling softly. "It's a great thing."

Aimee nodded appreciatively and smiled. "So what are you two doing after school?"

"He's got something he has to do with the clinic but we're having dinner at his place tonight."

"You're having dinner with his mum already?" Aimee asked, surprised.

"Uh-huh," Maeve shrugged.

"You mean…?" Aimee mimed masturbating a courgette.

Maeve grimaced a smile and nodded.

"Wow. She seems amazing," breathed Aimee.

"She raised Otis. She must be," murmured Maeve.

Aimee smiled. "You really like him, don't you?"

"I do," Maeve smiled softly. "How do you know?"

"Every time you say his name, you look like I feel when I'm with Steve."

Maeve pursed her lips in a smile and nodded.

"It's been obvious for a while," Aimee said.

"Yeah," Maeve sighed, wryly.

"So why'd you only get together now?"

"I didn't think he liked me like that. I thought he just wanted to be friends."

"Why would you think that? It was obvious he liked you."

"Really?" Maeve asked, looking questioningly at Aimee.

"Every time he looked at you."

"I just saw friendship in his eyes when he looked at me."

"Oh, yeah," Aimee said, remembering. "It was only when you weren't looking at him that he looked at you like that."

"Like what?"

Aimee smiled and switched to her pretend accent. "The lad were pinin', lass. Pinin', I tells ya."

Maeve smiled and switched to her pretend accent. "I had meself a few minutes of pinin' there, meself, pet."

Aimee dropped her pretend accent. "What made you think he didn't like you?"

Maeve dropped her pretend accent and shrugged. "I tried to kiss him and he kind of… well, it was obvious he didn't want me kissing him. I was so embarrassed and, you know me, I don't do embarrassment."

"That's weird," Aimee said, shaking her head.

Maeve pursed her lips and briefly raised her eyebrows then reached into her bag for another cigarette.

"So who asked who?" Aimee asked.

"I asked him," Maeve said, proudly.

"Even though you thought he didn't like you?"

Maeve sucked in a breath and grimaced and said, "Well, he'd already told me he loved me, so by then I knew it was a sure thing."

"So that means he asked you."

"No," said Maeve, gently but firmly. "He told me he loved me but I asked him to be my boyfriend."

"Why didn't he ask you to be his girlfriend if he'd already told you he loved you?"

Maeve rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Oh, it's this whole thing about kangaroos and goats and lions. Men can be idiots, sometimes."

"So how good does he kiss?" asked Aimee.

"Really good," breathed Maeve. "I mean, seriously good. Really sweet and really tender most of the time but then every so often… Oh!" Maeve smiled at the memories.

"So should I test him out?" Aimee teased.

"You touch him and I will break every bone in Steve's body. Including that one."

Aimee smiled. "And have you… you know… seen it?"

Maeve bit her lip. "I felt it. Couldn't help feeling it after our first kiss."

"And…?" Aimee's eyes widened with curiosity.

Maeve pursed her lips in a smile. "He's not Adam but he's fit for purpose. More than fit for purpose," she murmured.

"So did you…?" Aimee mimed masturbating.

Maeve quickly shook her head and wondered if she had said too much. Otis wouldn't want her talking to anybody about it but then again he had heard her say to Adam that girls talked so he'd know she'd be talking to Aimee about him. He'd have to know.

"You won't say anything to anybody, will you?" Maeve said, trying to conceal her concern.

"'Course not," Aimee said, almost offended.

"It's just… Otis… I don't think—"

Aimee switched to her pretend accent. "Secret's safe with me, lass," she said and mimed zipping her lips.

Maeve switched to her pretend accent. "Ta muchly, pet."

Aimee lit another cigarette and dropped her pretend accent and said, "So tonight… you and him…?"

Maeve hesitated and dropped her pretend accent. "Um…," she faltered and sighed. "Probably not."

"Why not?" asked Aimee, surprised.

"I think we need to take it slowly. He's… um… he's not…"

"Not…?" asked Aimee, puzzled.

Maeve sighed internally and promised to let Otis know and apologise. "He's still a virgin and he's a bit confused about things."

Aimee blinked gently in surprise. "Oh."

"That's cool. That's not a problem," said Maeve, genuinely. "I just don't understand why. He knows so much about this shit but he doesn't seem to have a clue when it comes to himself."

Aimee shook her head in wonder. "If he's the Pleasure Master now, can you imagine how good he's going to be when he does do it? What's beyond a Pleasure Master?"

Maeve shrugged. "Champion?" she suggested.

"The Pleasure Champion," Aimee breathed. "You lucky girl."

Maeve smiled gently at Aimee then her thoughts turned inward and she pursed her lips. "We're just going to have to take it slowly. _I'm_ going to have to take it slowly," she corrected herself. "And that's okay. It'll be different. It'll be nice," she murmured, thinking it really would be nice.

"He needs to go to the sex clinic," Aimee said.

Maeve pressed her lips together momentarily to stop herself laughing and looked fondly at Aimee. "Aimee," she said gently. "He _is_ the sex clinic."

"Oh, yeah. Bummer."

* * *

Otis and Lily wheeled their bikes slowly back up the hill they had just ridden down.

"Does she know you're a virgin?" Lily asked.

Otis nodded. "Yeah. I… told her."

"And she doesn't mind?"

"I don't… think so."

"You don't sound too sure."

"Well," Otis said, drawing breath through his teeth. "She says it's cool. It's not an issue. But she keeps shaking her head."

"What do you mean?"

"It's a sign she may not believe what she's saying."

"She thinks we're freaks," sighed Lily. "Do you want another trip down the hill?"

"No," Otis said firmly. "If she thought I was a freak she wouldn't have asked me to be her boyfriend. She probably…"

Otis thought for a moment, hoped he wasn't grasping at straws.

"She's probably confused about how I can do the sex clinic when I haven't had sex. That's all."

"An unmarried marriage counsellor," said Lily.

"Exactly," said Otis.

"Have you thought of asking her why she shakes her head?"

"I can't think of any good way to do that."

"I like the direct approach myself."

"I know," Otis said, ruefully.

They continued wheeling their bikes up the hill.

"She asked you to be her boyfriend?" Lily asked eventually.

"This morning," Otis nodded.

"I've never had anyone ask me to be their girlfriend," Lily said wistfully.

Otis simply stared at her until she looked at him.

"One day, somebody will ask you to be their girlfriend, Lily. Or agree to it. To be your boyfriend. One of the two."

"OctoBoy's nice. Maybe he'll ask me to be his girlfriend. He did say we could try having sex again after I spoke to you. Maybe he can be my boyfriend without the sex if I'm not ready."

Otis pressed his lips together momentarily then said, "May I make another suggestion?"

"You're the shrink."

Otis felt offended and said, "Sex therapist, thank you."

Lily looked at him for a moment. "Poh-tah-toe."

"You have things in common with Octo—what's his real name? I can't call him OctoBoy."

"Derek," said Lily.

"You have things in common with Derek, don't you?"

"He liked my story. And the art. He said it was really erotic."

"There you go. Just hang out with him, share your common interests, don't try to force anything and see what happens."

"That what happened with you and The Lion?"

Otis nodded. "More or—" He stopped as he realised what Lily had said. "Why did you call Maeve 'The Lion'?" he asked with trepidation.

"That girl you danced with last night. I passed her as she was walking out. She looked really angry."

Otis wondered when minefields had learned to fly.

"She was muttering, 'Fucking Lion', 'Fucking Kangaroo', 'Fucking Goat'."

Lily looked Otis up and down.

"I figured she wouldn't be that angry if you called her a lion—"

_Don't you believe it_, thought Otis.

"—And you _do_ kind of look like a kangaroo."

Otis dropped his head and his shoulders slumped. He was never going to escape this.

"That wasn't a nice thing to say," said Lily. "You should apologise."

Otis kept his focus on the task he needed to complete once they reached the top of the hill.

"Do you ever wonder why people listen to you when you say things like that?" Lily asked.

* * *

Maeve entered her caravan and placed her bag on the breakfast table then walked into the bedroom and opened her closet, studying everything and wondering what to wear to dinner.

She didn't want to be too sexy – not because of his mother – his mother would probably be cool with it if everything he had said about her was accurate once his obvious bias was removed – but she knew Otis wouldn't be cool about it and she expected – hoped – wanted there to be a couple of hours of gentle making out – at least kissing like they did this morning – just holding hands even - if smooching - _Smooching?_ _Oh, Otis, you are making me soft_ – snogging was going to be too much for him with his mother around - and too sexy would be way too much too soon for him.

She didn't want to dress down too much. That meant the flanno was out and _that_ top and _that_ one, too. The dress she wore to try not to frighten Jackson's parents was right out of the picture. Oh, and everything she was wearing on the day of Jackson's Big Romantic Gesture was an absolute no go. No way was she linking those clothes with this special occasion.

She glanced at the dress from the dance still sprawled across the clothes hamper and smiled at the thought of turning up in that and she knew she could convince him to become Casual Hamm and his place was pretty fancy for this town and they could make their happier memories tonight. He must have some music they could dance to. Slow dance. Slow slow dance.

She thought about the special days. What was she wearing on those days? What she wore when he first sat next to her in biology? No, too associated with the video. What she wore on the swings at Aimee's party? No, too associated with everything else that night and afterwards. What she wore in the pool? She knew Otis liked that one but maybe a bit too see-through and she wasn't sure about the shorts. How about what she wore on the day Aimee told her Otis had solved Adam's problem and she got the idea for the clinic? Wasn't too much. Wasn't too drab. And the jacket was loose enough she could –

A distant knock from the front door interrupted her thoughts and she walked through the caravan to answer it.

Cynthia stood outside, Jonathan and his red and white woollen hat in one arm and a brown bag tied with string in the other hand.

"Mail call," Cynthia said and handed the bag to Maeve who took it with both hands to ensure she didn't drop it.

"What's this?" asked Maeve.

"A young lad dropped it off," said Cynthia. "Skinny, sickly-looking fella. Had some really interesting thoughts about me and Jeffrey's marital problems."

Maeve's heart soared and she looked past Cynthia trying to spot him.

"Oh, he couldn't stay, he said, but he did say he hoped you enjoyed the gift because you really deserved it and he was really looking forward to seeing you tonight at dinner."

Maeve was a little disappointed but the bag in her hands took the edge off and she smiled at Cynthia and Jonathan and said, "Thanks, Cynthia. Jonathan," and closed the door with more patience than she thought she could possess and hurried to place the bag on the breakfast table and find scissors to cut the string.

As the string fell away, she bit her lip and anticipation rose within her as she peeled open the top of the bag and reached inside and pulled out a folded piece of paper she instantly recognised as that which Otis had been holding when she first saw him that morning.

Her heart ached in a good way as she thought about the words he would have written when he had time to gather his thoughts rather than those she forced out of him under the pressure of her anger and she wanted to open it and read it immediately but she forced herself to put it aside and swallowed as she thought about what was still in the bag and she leaned forward and peered inside.

Her breath hitched and she tore the bag away from the gift inside and gently lifted the trophy Adam had been awarded for the essay she had written for him and stared at it in wonder, understanding how far outside his comfort zone Otis had gone for her to show her exactly how much he truly valued her.

She studied the plaque on the base of the trophy and smiled adoringly at the sight of Adam's name scratched through and her own name lovingly etched below it.

Carefully, tenderly she placed the trophy on the breakfast table and picked up the letter that came with it and unfolded the paper and began to read.

* * *

Otis opened the front door to his house and managed to enter without dropping the bag of groceries he awkwardly carried beneath one arm. He walked into the kitchen and placed the bag and his keys on the table and stared at the former with disappointment.

He heard a noise by the sink and looked over and recoiled at the sight of Ola kneeling by the sink, packing away the contents of a toolbox.

"Ola," he said with surprise and she looked up at him, face neutral.

"My dad couldn't come," Ola said, "so he asked me to fix your mum's sink."

Otis' brain took a few moments to settle and then he stepped forward and said, "Um, I'm sorry, Ola."

Ola looked at him sceptically.

Otis swallowed and thought and began again. "I… really enjoyed our time at the dance with you… well… before…" His words trailed off.

Ola snorted and finished packing and then closed the toolbox and stood. Without looking at Otis, she headed for the passage leading to the front door.

Frustration rippled across Otis' face as he followed her movement and then he blurted, "I'm sorry, Ola. I'm an idiot."

Ola stopped in the doorway and Otis held his breath until she eventually put down the toolbox and turned to face him, face again neutral.

Otis sighed and gathered his thoughts and stepped forward two paces and his arms waved between them as he spoke.

"I didn't mean any of what I said last night," he began. "I'm a fool and I stumble over my words and I don't say what I really mean. You were great. You're very funny and very kind and you're really smart and you're so vibrant, Ola. And we danced and it was a great dance because I don't dance but I really enjoyed dancing with you. And pardon me for saying so if this objectifies you but you have really beautiful eyes. And I'm sorry you heard any of that crap from me last night because you really didn't deserve to be treated like that."

Ola stared at him for long moments, face still neutral, then she nodded and said, "Would you like to go out again?"

Otis hadn't thought of this. "I… can't," he said, cautiously.

"Why not?"

"I'm with the lion?" he said with a rising inflection.

Ola shook her head and smiled at him. "You're an arsehole, Otis," she said, not unkindly or unfriendly.

"That I am," Otis said, nodding then pointed at Ola. "But remember what GOAT stands for."

Ola stared at him, sceptically.

"'Goddess Of All Things'," Otis said, hopefully.

Ola stared at him for long moments then said, "Nice save."

She looked at the bag sitting on the table and recognised the logo.

"You been shopping where I work?"

"Um, yes," said Otis.

"You thought I'd be there."

"Yes."

Ola walked to the table and looked into the bag and frowned and reached in and pulled out a tin of cat food and looked at Otis.

"You don't own a cat," she said.

"I know. I just bought it to say that I like cats. Housecats, specifically. They're so friendly – well, when they want to be – and I was kind of hoping I could be friends with a housecat or at least—"

"But the housecat was here," Ola interrupted.

"When I got to the checkout and found out you weren't there I was too embarrassed to put everything back," he said, sheepishly.

Ola failed to conceal all of her smile then said, "Pretty Big Romantic Gesture for someone who only wanted to be friends with a housecat."

Otis said, "I just wanted you to know that being your friend would be a very good thing to be for anyone lucky enough to be your friend."

Ola nodded then said, "I have friends with housecats. Since you don't have one."

Otis gestured at the bag and said, "Take them."

"Thanks." Ola picked up the bag and walked over to the toolbox.

"Do you want a hand carrying them to your truck?" he asked.

"I can manage," Ola said as she reached down to pick up the toolbox. "But I could do with a hand for the front door."

Otis nodded and hurried ahead of her to the front door.

He opened the door and recoiled when he saw Maeve standing there reaching out for the doorbell.

Maeve recoiled as well and stepped back and Otis thought there was something funny about her hands but she had hidden them behind her back before he could see them properly.

"Maeve."

"Otis."

Ola squeezed past Otis to stand on the front porch and looked at Maeve who tore her gaze from Otis.

"Lion," Ola said and nodded at Maeve.

"Goddess," Maeve said and nodded at Ola, studying her gently.

Ola smirked and turned to look at Otis. "I knew you hadn't come up with that one by yourself."

"Oh, he—" Maeve started to protest but Ola shook her head.

"It's okay," Ola said. "He spoke from his heart. It was a really good apology."

Ola turned to look at Otis and said, "See you in school, armadillo."

Both Maeve and Otis smiled gently and Ola stepped past them before stopping and turning.

"It wouldn't have worked out anyway, Otis," Ola said. "My dad shagged your mum."

* * *

Maeve and Otis watched as Ola drove away and once they were sure she was really gone turned to face each other.

Maeve brought her hands from behind her back and now Otis could see that beneath her jacket she was wearing the jumper he had leant her that night on the bridge.

"Why are your arms so freakishly long?" she asked.

Otis laughed. "They're not," he said. "Just roll up your sleeves, you fool."

Maeve chuckled softly and stepped toward him and moved her head up to meet his and they finally kissed what should have been their first kiss.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"I can get a new plaque put on it—"

"Don't you dare," she said. "It's perfect."

She kissed him again.

"And that one's for the letter."

Otis spread his arms and she stepped into them, embracing him then she put her mouth close to his ear and her whisper carried mischief.

"If I said I wanted to fuck your brains out right now, Otis, would you freak out?"

"Yes," squeaked Otis.

"I won't say it then," Maeve said and kissed him again.

* * *

**Author's Notes: Yes, I know that moment is cheesy but I don't care.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Notes: Thank you all for your kind words. I really appreciate them.**

* * *

**Chapter 8**

Maeve and Otis leant against the fence overlooking Otis' property, their eyes roaming the bushes and trees and the river in the distance.

"I'm sorry, Otis," Maeve said, leaning her head towards him while still looking at the view. "But you look so cute when you're embarrassed."

Otis didn't respond and Maeve looked at him and noticed he had been watching her out of the side of his eye while facing straight ahead.

"I get it," he said. "You're mean."

Maeve smiled. "Do you remember at Aimee's party when you stumbled in on me and Jackson and you were so embarrassed and you knocked over the lamp because you couldn't get out of there fast enough?"

Otis rolled his eyes at the return of the memory.

"You were really cute, Otis," Maeve murmured. "Really cute."

"And that justifies freaking me out, does it?" he said with mock aggrievement.

"Yes."

"Fine," he said with mock curtness.

She smiled and gently stroked his arm. "Can you forgive me?" she mock pouted at him.

"I'll think about it," he mock pouted in return.

"I won't do it again," she promised, not solemnly.

Otis turned to look directly at her. "I'm sorry, Maeve," he sighed.

"Otis, if you apologise for being yourself one more time," she began. "I am going to take my top off and tell your mum to call the paramedics."

"I thought you said you wouldn't do it again?"

"I lied."

Otis shook his head and smiled. "You'll be the death of me, Maeve Wiley."

Maeve returned his smile then leant her back against the fence and looked up at him. "I really am sorry, muppet. I just… when I read that letter… The gift is brilliant, but when I read that letter…"

"I don't want you to feel you can't be you around me, Maeve," Otis murmured.

Maeve bit her lip and looked at him and was about to say something but changed her mind and simply said, "Just let yourself be you as well, Otis."

Otis sighed and nodded, unconvincingly.

"So, were you having a panic attack when you went to get the trophy?" Maeve asked.

"No," he said as he returned his gaze to her. "I didn't. I panicked more when I stole that chocolate bar because you dared me to."

"I didn't make you do anything you didn't want to do. And you didn't steal it. Ola let you have it."

"She took pity on me. Unlike my girlfriend."

Maeve watched him out of the corner of her eye then finally asked with as neutral tone as possible, "Did you like Ola?"

Otis dropped his head and smiled slightly and looked directly into her eyes.

"She's very funny and she's very nice and kind. She seems really smart and she's really vibrant and alive and no-nonsense and she has really beautiful eyes. But she's the opposite of me in so many ways."

"Opposites attract," Maeve said as neutrally as possible.

"There I am talking about the sexism inherent in fairy tales and she's all, 'Cool, I'm gonna dance,'" he said, smiling at the memory.

"You looked really good, dancing," Maeve said softly.

"I don't really dance."

"Sounds like she might have been good for you, provide a balance."

Otis looked at Maeve tenderly. "I don't want an opposite, Maeve. I want a complement. And you're right, there is so much I don't know about you so maybe we aren't really complements but the time I've spent with you, it's like you've helped me find bits of me that I never even knew existed until you brought them out of me."

Maeve gazed softly into his eyes, then ostentatiously sniffed and shrugged and turned away. "Wish I could say the same, Milburn. You're just making me soft."

Otis laughed. "Are you suggesting I should call Ola and tell her I've made a mistake and I prefer the Goddess to the Lion?"

"You do and I go all _Fatal Attraction_."

"So why are you asking about Ola?"

Maeve dropped her head and sighed. "Complete honesty," she murmured.

"What?" Otis asked, puzzled.

Maeve took a deep breath and raised her head to look directly into his eyes. "I told Ola you were a virgin."

Otis blinked in surprise. "When?"

"At the dance."

"Why?"

"I bumped into her in the lav and… I was jealous. I didn't want you being with her and I thought… I don't know what I thought… I was being _that_ girl."

"That explains it," Otis murmured.

"What?"

"Just before we argued Ola said she hadn't been with anyone. I didn't know why she said that. Came right out of left field."

"I'm sorry, Otis," Maeve said, softly.

"What did you say to her?" There was no accusation, only curiosity in his tone.

Maeve swallowed before speaking. "I said you were really inexperienced, that you hadn't had sex and were really confused about all that stuff and she shouldn't be surprised if you didn't seem keen." She bit her lip and studied him.

He pondered and nodded. "Accurate." He smiled gently at her. "But Ola saying that wasn't what made me call her a goat, if that's what you're thinking."

"And I lied. I said I hadn't seen her when you asked and I had. I just didn't want you finding her."

Otis looked at her, fondly. "In terms of lying between us, Maeve, I'm still the lego medallist."

"And I told Aimee."

Otis smiled and nodded. "I expected you would tell Aimee. She's your best friend. Girls talk."

"You don't mind?"

He grimaced slightly. "Can't say I'm wildly thrilled about people knowing, but no. Not about Aimee."

"And it's getting broadcast over the school PA tomorrow morning."

"That might be a step too far."

Maeve smiled then said quietly. "There's nothing wrong with being a virgin, Otis. I mean, I will admit it puzzles me how you can still know so much but it's not an issue for me and Aimee."

Otis studied her for a moment then nodded, accepting her words.

"Do you want to know what Aimee said?" she asked.

"What?"

"That if you're the Pleasure Master now then once you have sex you're going to be the Pleasure Champion."

Otis snorted.

* * *

Maeve and Otis leant against the fence, eyes glued to each other. After a moment, she reached up to stroke his hair and for the first time noticed the cut and scrape near his temple.

"Bloody hell, Otis!" she said, alarmed. "What did you do to yourself?"

"What?" he asked puzzled and then realised. "Oh, it's nothing. I had a near death experience."

"What?"

"Joke, Maeve. Lily and I were riding down Bleaker's Hill and I took a tumble off my bike."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, it's fine. It's not even hurting anymore."

"Why the hell would you ride down Bleaker's Hill?"

"Lily and I don't like losing control and I thought riding down Bleaker's Hill would give us a breakthrough."

"Did it work?"

Otis took a slow breath. "We both realised that losing our virginity is not a race. It'll happen when it happens." He paused a moment then continued quietly, "But what that means for us-"

"You're going to need to take it slowly," Maeve said softly, understandingly.

"Still want me to be your boyfriend?"

"If we haven't had sex in thirty or forty years I'll have to think about moving on but right now, yeah, I still want you to be my boyfriend."

Otis smiled softly at her then sighed. "I think I'm going to need a safe word."

"A safe word?"

"When Lily… I needed a safe word."

"What type of sex did you try to have?" Maeve asked, frowning.

Otis chuckled briefly. "It was when she tried to kiss me. I turned and she's lunging in for the kill like a shark. I barely escaped with my life. I'm glad you didn't try that."

"I thought about it."

"You know," Otis began, pondering. "I don't think Lily and I ever actually kissed. She tried but… I just… I don't think our lips ever connected so I think that makes you the first girl I've ever kissed, Maeve."

Maeve smiled and shook her head in amazement. "The way we were snogging on—"

"'Snogging'?" grimaced Otis.

"Would you prefer 'smooching'?"

"'Kissing' seems acceptable."

"The way we were _snogging_ on our bench I would never have guessed. You're an amazing kisser."

"I watch a lot of rom-coms," he shrugged, trying to conceal how much that felt good to hear.

"So what was your safe word?" Maeve asked.

"Flamingo."

"I'll remember that."

"You don't want me to come up with one specifically for us?"

"Nope."

"I had to use it."

Maeve was silent as she watched him wrestle with his thoughts.

"It was bad, Maeve," Otis said after a moment. "With Lily... I was pathetic. I had a really big full-blown panic attack and next thing I know I'm staring up and Lily, mum and Ola's dad are all looking down at me like they thought I'd died."

Maeve gently watched him.

"I wanted the ground to just open up and swallow me and I could disappear and never be seen again," Otis murmured.

"You weren't into Lily. Do you think it would be different if it was with someone you actually liked and wanted to be with?"

Otis dropped his head and turned to lean over the fence, eyes roaming across the view. "I have issues, Maeve. I'm not normal."

"Don't put yourself down, Otis," Maeve said quietly.

"I'm odd. You've said I'm odd."

"'Compellingly odd', Otis. 'Compellingly'."

"You know I'm very unusual."

"You're not scaring me away, Otis."

"I'm going to be high maintenance."

"Back off if you say 'flamingo'. Take things slowly. Not a hardship. How else can I help?"

"The thing is, Maeve, you shouldn't have to help. You are not the doctor if the wound is solely mine."

Maeve smiled fondly at him. "Otis, you're not just my boyfriend, you're one of my two best friends. And yes, as much as I love Aimee, the conversations I've had with you have been the deepest and most meaningful _I've_ ever had with anyone."

Otis looked at her and pursed his lips and swallowed.

Maeve continued, softly, "You were there for me on a day when I really needed someone to be there for me. You were there for me this morning when I really needed someone to be there for me."

Otis kept silent.

"You're one of only two people who have shown me lately that I mean something to them. Let me be your friend, Otis. Let me help if I can."

Otis nodded and couldn't bring himself to speak.

Maeve was silent for a moment then shook her head and said, quizzically. "'I am not the doctor if the wound is solely yours'? Alanis? Seriously?"

Otis acquired a lesser form of embarrassment. "It's mum's. She used to play _Jagged Little Pill_ constantly during the divorce. I mean, constantly. I think she played _You Oughta Know _for two and a half days straight."

"No wonder she's crazy," Maeve murmured.

Otis continued. "She had to tell me that when we had visitors I wasn't allowed to go around singing 'Are you thinking of me when you fuck her?'"

Maeve smiled and thought his half-singing voice was nice.

"If I hear that song one more time I really am going to become Hannibal Lecter," Otis continued.

"It's my favourite song," Maeve said, straight-faced.

Otis scrunched his face and looked at her and breathed, "Really?"

"No," she smiled. "It's okay but I never really got into her. BMT."

Otis frowned. "BMT?"

"Before my time."

"Nirvana's before your time."

Maeve shrugged. "Mum. Same thing. She loved Nirvana. Every April she'd put everything she had on constant rotation for four days."

Maeve studied his face as he focussed on hers.

"She loved their final studio album," she continued. "Me, too. _Scentless Apprentice_. In the chorus, Kurt is just screaming 'Go away! Go away!'"

Otis' breathing slowed as he gazed softly at her.

Maeve pursed her lips in a close approximation of a smile. "Seem familiar?"

Otis' eyes softly embraced her.

"I think those CDs are the only thing mum hasn't lost track of," Maeve said quietly.

Otis' breath hitched and he stepped forward and as his arms opened, Maeve stepped into them and his arms embraced her and she rested her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes.

"See, you're here for me, Otis. Let me be here for you."

Otis quietly held her in his embrace for long moments and then cautiously began, "Maeve…?"

"Ask, Otis. If I don't like the question, I'll just tell you to fuck off."

"Before we go down and I introduce you to mum, do you mind if we spend some time up here snogging?"

She looked at him and smiled and their lips touched and their kisses were sweet and tender and every so often so much more and at the edge of conscious thought Maeve noticed how comfortable in his own skin Otis was at this moment.

* * *

Otis held Maeve's hand gently as they stepped through his front door.

"Welcome to _Casa Otis_," Otis said.

"You live here alone?"

"What?"

"Shouldn't it be _Casa Milburn_?"

"Welcome to _Casa Milburn_."

Maeve smiled and Otis led her into the kitchen where Jean was wiping her hands on a tea towel as she watched them enter, softly expectant and intrigued.

"Mum," said Otis. "This is Maeve. Maeve, this is my mum."

"Pleased to meet you, Maeve," Jean said, stepping forward and holding out her hand.

"Good to meet you at last, Mrs Milburn," Maeve said, taking Jean's hand.

"Oh, please, call me Jean."

"Good to meet you, Jean. I'm sorry, I forgot to bring something."

"Oh, don't be silly, Maeve. None of those formalities."

Otis looked at Maeve then at his mother. "Mum, Maeve is my girl… friend."

Maeve pursed her lips together in a smile and looked blandly at Jean. "Yes, I'm his friend who's a girl. And he's my friend who's a boy."

Jean struggled to conceal her smile but Maeve noticed her eyes gleam.

Otis swallowed and said, more firmly. "Mum, Maeve is my girlfriend."

Maeve leaned closer to Otis and murmured in a voice she knew Jean would hear, "Are you wanting your mum to congratulate you, Otis?"

She watched Otis for a few moments as he struggled to find a word to say then stepped closer to him and put her free hand on his chest. "I'm teasing, muppet. You have gotten so soft since I asked you to be my boyfriend. You used to be able to handle something like that."

"I'm—"

"Paramedics," Maeve said in a gently warning tone.

"Flamingo," Otis squeaked.

Maeve turned to Jean who was no longer trying to conceal her smile. "Sorry, Jean, private joke."

Maeve turned back to Otis and held up their hands that were still clasped together. "Besides, I think this might have been a giveaway, muppet."

Otis pursed his lips in a smile and nodded.

"Would you like something to drink, Maeve?" Jean asked.

"Oh, just water for the moment, please. Thanks, Jean," Maeve said.

Jean began to turn away but turned back when Maeve continued, "And do you have a first aid kit?"

Maeve glanced between Otis' eyes and their clasped-together hands and Otis released his gentle grip.

"Otis has done himself a damage," said Maeve as she reached up and gently brushed his hair away from the cut and scrapes near his temple.

Jean stepped forward with concern. "Otis, what happened?"

"Nothing, mum. Just playing silly buggers on my bike and took a tumble. I'm fine."

"Are you sure you don't have a concussion?" Jean asked.

"No, no, I'm okay."

"He's seemed fine, Jean," said Maeve. "I think it's just a cut and a scrape but if I can get a first aid kit I can clean it up for him."

"Certainly," said Jean. "Otis, you know where the first aid kit is."

Otis nodded and moved away to fetch the first aid kit.

"Do you want me to do it, Maeve?" Jean asked.

"No, I'm fine," said Maeve as she rummaged in her bag for some tissues. "I can do it, thanks, Jean."

Maeve looked at Jean and gave her a small smile and Jean nodded and moved away to get a glass of water for the younger woman, smiling gently to herself.

Maeve walked over to the sink to wet the tissues she had found and when she returned Otis had placed the first aid kit on the kitchen table and sat down on the nearest chair.

"It's a lot of fuss over nothing," he said dismissively.

Maeve dragged a chair closer to him and sat down.

"Give me your head," she said.

Otis leaned closer to Maeve and she began to gently wash the cut and scrapes with the tissues. Otis sucked a breath in through his teeth.

"I thought you said it didn't hurt," Maeve said.

"That was before you started grinding into it," Otis replied.

"Suck it up, muppet," Maeve commanded with a smile.

Once she had finished cleaning the wound she opened up the first aid kit and took out some ointment. Otis' eyes followed every movement as she put some of the ointment onto her fingers and raised her hand to his forehead and gently began to rub it into the cut and scrapes.

Maeve looked directly into his eyes. "Flamingo?" she asked, softly.

"No," Otis replied, softly.

Maeve smiled and finished rubbing in the ointment then looked at the first aid kit again and took out a box of band aids and looked at Otis.

"Do you have any that say shark bite?"

Otis chuckled. "No," he said, smiling at Maeve.

"Pity. I'll have to get you some. Never know when you might need one."

Maeve placed a blue band-aid across the cut and smoothed it and then let her hand gently cup Otis' cheek as she looked into his eyes again.

"Better?" she murmured.

"Much," Otis replied.

Jean waited near the fridge, watching the two of them as they were lost in each other's eyes. Jean noticed her son's comfort with Maeve's touch.

After a few moments, Maeve became the first to move, releasing Otis' cheek and beginning to collect the rubbish.

Jean stepped forward and placed the glass of water on the table near Maeve. "There you go, Maeve."

"Thanks," Maeve said and took a sip then, holding the tissues and rubbish in her hand, asked, "Bin under the sink?"

"Yes," Jean said.

Maeve walked over to the sink to throw away the rubbish and Jean and Otis shared a silent look.

_She seems nice_, mouthed Jean.

Otis nodded, trying not to let his smile overpower him then stood and started replacing items in the first aid kit.

Maeve returned to their side and Jean spoke to her. "I thought we'd have dinner outside tonight. Veggie & tofu stir-fry?"

"That sounds nice, Jean."

Otis walked over to put away the first aid kit. "Do you need a hand with anything, mum?"

"No, I'm fine, darling. Just make sure the table's set."

Jean turned to Maeve again and a gleam of mischief sparkled in her eyes. "So now you've finally met Otis' crazy mum, do you agree with him?"

"Mum," Otis protested.

"Oh, I'm sure the word 'crazy' came up quite often, Otis," said Jean, glancing teasingly at Otis.

"Not a lot," said Maeve blandly.

"Maeve," Otis protested.

"I notice you didn't say 'Not at all', dear," said Jean, smiling at her.

Otis returned to their side, glancing between them, trying to find words to say.

Maeve gently took Otis' hand. "Toughen up, muppet. It seems there's two of us now."

Otis smiled uncertainly at Maeve and muttered, "I think this was a mistake."

* * *

**Author's Notes: Note – in this story, Otis never found out his mother was writing a book about himself because he was too busy writing the note of apology to Maeve.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Notes: I'm not sure if I really quite got this.**

* * *

**Chapter 9**

Maeve glanced at Otis sitting beside her at the balcony table and noticed his discomfort. She leant over and whispered in his ear, "Cheer up, muppet. Don't you trust me?"

Otis glanced sideways at her and mock-pouted. "No."

"Awww," Maeve mock-pouted in return then turned back to her plate and took her first bite of the veggie and tofu stir-fry and nodded in appreciation.

From across the table, Jean glanced between them and tried keeping her face neutral as she began to eat.

"This is really good, Jean," Maeve said. "I hope it wasn't too much hassle. Last minute invite."

"Oh, it was no trouble, Maeve," Jean said. "When Otis told me you were coming, I just added a little extra to the mix."

"It's very delicious," Maeve said.

"It's excellent, mum," Otis said.

They all ate in silence for a few moments then Maeve said, "Otis has told me you've written some books, Jean."

Jean nodded. "Yes. One by myself, one with my husband. Ex-husband."

"I'd love to read them," Maeve said.

"Maeve reads a lot, mum," said Otis and Maeve glanced at him.

"I have copies I recommend to my patients if I feel they could help," Jean said. "I'll get them later. Remind me."

"Are you writing anything at the moment?" Maeve asked.

Jean pressed her lips together and hoped Otis did not realise she was deliberately not looking at him. "I was writing something but on reflection it seems I may not have known what I was talking about. I'll have to start again."

"You can use the thesaurus I bought you, mum," Otis said teasingly and Maeve noticed he seemed a little less subdued.

Jean smiled softly and shook her head then looked at Maeve. "Otis seems to think I have a limited vocabulary."

Maeve shrugged. "Just because you have a lot of tools in your arsenal doesn't mean anything. It's important to know exactly when to deploy them."

"Exactly. It's a lesson Otis' father could learn." Jean looked at her son. "Have you read his latest essay in the STARR newsletter? Dreadful."

"Maeve's a really good writer, mum," Otis said keenly. "You should read the essay she wrote about dreams. Okay, admittedly, it's full of existential angst, but it's so well-written."

"I just dreamt a dream and then imagined it shattering," Maeve said and glanced at Otis who didn't notice though his mother certainly did.

"Do you plan on being a writer, Maeve?" Jean asked.

"Not sure," said Maeve. "Haven't really decided. I've thought about becoming a teacher. Maybe University lecturer."

"What would you lecture on?" Jean asked.

Maeve opened her mouth to speak but Otis spoke first. "Feminist literature."

Maeve smiled and nodded appreciatively. "Muppet gets me."

"I think you'd be really good at it, Maeve," Otis said softly then turned to his mother who noticed he was more engaged in the moment than he was when they first sat down. "Maeve is easily the smartest person I know."

"You're pretty smart yourself, Otis," Maeve said.

Otis shook his head. "Not as smart as you. What was it you said Miss Sands told you?"

"Lots of people have acquired knowledge," said Maeve, almost sounding embarrassed. "Not many people have ideas."

"That's it," said Otis. "You're an original thinker."

"May I read your essay, Maeve?" asked Jean. "If you wouldn't mind."

"I'll see if I can print a copy, mum," Otis said then turned to Maeve. "That's okay, isn't it? I typed it up from the newspaper."

Maeve nodded then smiled at him and said softly, "You're a pretty good writer yourself, Otis."

Jean was intrigued. "You've written something, Otis? May I read it?"

"Um…" said Otis, wondering what the hell Maeve was doing.

"It's kinda personal," said Maeve, apologetically, realising too late how feeling safe can have its downside.

Jean gave an 'ah' of recognition and looked at Otis, smiling. "A love letter."

"No," said Otis, embarrassed.

"Yes," said Maeve, also slightly embarrassed.

Jean took a sip of her wine and noticed Maeve's free hand drop below the table then Otis' free hand join it a moment later.

"So have you known each other long?" Jean asked, trying to conceal a smile.

Maeve sensed Otis was going to protest and squeezed his hand gently.

"Just this year, really," Otis said, subdued.

"I'd seen Otis around in previous years, but never had any dealings with him. I suppose it was the same with you," Maeve said, turning to her boyfriend.

"Um, yeah," said Otis, not looking at her.

_Oh!_ thought Maeve. _It wasn't the same for you._

"So what changed this year?" Jean asked, her idle tone concealing her intense curiosity.

"I kind of bumped into him first day back," Maeve began, turning to look at Jean, "and he helped me pick up my stuff and he actually really looked cute all bumbling and stumbling over his words."

"That's not what you said at the time," muttered Otis as a blush spread across his face.

Maeve glanced at him with a puzzled frown then turned back to Jean. "Anyway, I told him he was going to be late for class and that was it, he was gone. He sat next to me later and we started knowing each other from there."

Otis took a deep breath and his eyes took on a gleam of mischief. "As I remember it, Maeve, you called me a moron, told me to get my hands off your shit and then forcefully instructed me to depart the area forthwith."

"Snowflake!" laughed Maeve, incredulously.

Otis gave Maeve as bland a look as he was capable of. "And when I had to sit next to you because it was the only seat left, you reacted as if I was carrying ebola."

Maeve laughed again and shook her head. "That's not how you said you remembered it earlier."

"I lied," Otis said, deadpan.

Maeve shook her head, smiling. "Come on, Otis, I'm trying to get a nice sweet rom-com meet-cute for your mum and you're spoiling it."

Otis said, "You said you hate rom-coms," and butter wouldn't melt in his mouth.

"I said I hate Big Romantic Gestures," Maeve corrected him.

Otis shrugged, mock-indifferently.

"And I obviously lied about that," Maeve continued. "In case you've forgotten."

"Well, Jackson's was pretty cool," Otis admitted.

"I wasn't thinking Jackson," Maeve said quietly, glancing softly at Otis as a small smile flickered across his lips and no-one else existed in their world.

Jean watched their eyes caress each other for a few moments before she spoke.

"So you must have been the girl from the party, Maeve," Jean said.

"Mum," Otis hissed in startlement.

"Oh, no, muppet. I need to hear this," said Maeve with a grin, holding out a hand to shush him.

Jean's eyes flickered between the two and a soft smile rose to her lips. "There was a party earlier this year. Otis never goes to parties. He wore aftershave and he rarely wears aftershave. It was obvious there was a special someone waiting for him."

"You wore that aftershave just for me, Otis?" asked Maeve, surprised.

"It was a party," Otis shrugged.

"I remember you smelling really nice," Maeve said, softly, forgetting again that Jean was sitting just across from them.

"And he wore a hat," said Jean, savouring these moments and wondering why Otis would keep this side of himself away from her.

"You looked good in the hat. What happened to the hat?" Maeve said.

"I think I left it in the bathroom," said Otis, guiltily. "It was Eric's."

"I'll ask Aimee about it next time I see her," Maeve promised.

"Otis is so secretive these days," Jean said and Maeve could detect a trace of wistful sadness in her tone.

Neither of them noticed the troubled look flash through Otis' eyes before he managed to cover it.

"I thought nothing had come of it," Jean continued. "And yet here you've obviously been dating for a while."

"Oh," said Maeve quickly, shaking her head. "No. We only got together this morning."

"This morning?" said Jean, surprised.

Otis looked at his mother and spoke with a tone of affront. "Mum, I went to the dance with Ola. Do you think I'd two-time someone?"

"I wasn't assuming exclusivity," Jean said, slightly defensively.

"Mum," Otis protested.

Maeve paused a moment, glanced at Otis then looked at Jean with mischief in her eyes. "He did say I was his bit on the side."

"Maeve," Otis protested.

"I said you'd pay for it," said Maeve as she gently rubbed Otis' shoulder, not looking to see his response.

Jean took another sip of wine and it wasn't until she put her wine glass down that she realised.

"So that means this is your first date?" she said, surprised.

Maeve looked fondly at Otis. "Taking me to see his mum on the first date. It's very Otis."

"You said you like me as I am," Otis said, defensively.

"I didn't say it was bad, Otis," said Maeve, softly.

"I think it was five months before your grandparents met your father," Jean began. "And it was seven months before I met his parents. I was so young and so nervous about doing or saying the wrong thing and then I spilt a whole glass of red wine on a white rug and swore like a marine. I was mortified but his mother thanked me because his father couldn't stop her buying a new one. She had hated it."

"Pop can be a bit of a cheapskate," Otis murmured, nodding.

"Any embarrassing stories on your end, Maeve?" Jean asked.

"I don't really do the meet-the-parents thing much," Maeve shrugged. "Last boyfriend, I was so uncomfortable I told them I was going to the lav and just scarpered. I had to go back later for my shoes. Very embarrassing and I don't do embarrassment."

Otis lifted his head and looked at her and smirked. "Oh, so you do have a Cinderella complex," he said.

"It was both shoes," Maeve said with mock exasperation. "Not just one. And they weren't glass."

"Double Cinderella complex. You have it bad, Maeve."

Maeve smiled and mock sighed. "Yes, I've just been waiting for my Prince Charming to come along and rescue me from my life of drudgery and isolation. What took you so long, muppet?"

"I was attacked by a troop of kangaroos."

"Silly kangaroos," Maeve murmured.

"And those lions can be mean."

"I haven't been mean for a long time," Maeve said with mock indignation.

"An hour ago?"

Maeve shrugged dismissively. "Ancient history."

Otis and Maeve finally realized his mother was looking at them, puzzled but smiling.

"Maeve is a very kind person, mum. It's just a joke," said Otis, trying to conceal his embarrassment.

Maeve took a breath and scrunched her face as she looked at Jean. "I _can_ be mean sometimes. I really _was_ mean to Otis when he bumped into me."

"And just a day later she was very kind to me," Otis assured his mother.

Maeve turned to Otis and said quietly, "I'm really glad you sat next to me, muppet."

"I didn't have a choice. It was pure dumb luck," Otis said softly.

Maeve smiled and turned to Jean, raising her voice. "Otis had this thing last night that love isn't about grand gestures or the moon and the stars and all that stuff. You can fall in love with someone and it's just pure dumb luck if they feel the same way about you."

Otis turned to his mother. "Eric said I should start a motivational podcast called _The Teen Whisperer_."

"You've made up?" Jean asked, pleased.

"Yeah. At the dance," said Otis and the relief in his voice was obvious.

"So it was a good night, then?" Jean said, satisfied.

Otis and Maeve looked at each other and Maeve shrugged. "Ancient history, Otis."

Jean watched them staring tenderly at each other and pondered how Otis had been slipping in and out of self-consciousness all evening and how even Maeve had seemed surprised by some of the things she had been revealing.

"So, Maeve," Jean began, "you were the one who asked Otis to… what's the current terminology? Not go steady but same thing?"

Otis rolled his eyes, clearly uncomfortable but holding his tongue, and Maeve turned to Jean, smiling and feeling as if she had known her for such a long time already.

"I was waiting for him to ask me," Maeve said, theatrically. "I was laying out all the clues one by one, clearly marked, but, and excuse me for saying this, Jean, as amazing and insightful Otis can be most of the time, he can also be a little thick sometimes. Can't you, muppet?" she said softly and fondly.

Otis pressed his lips together and asked, "What clues?"

"Well," Maeve continued, "I don't want to say in front of your mother because I don't want to embarrass you—"

"When has that ever stopped you?" Otis asked, snorting.

"Suffice to say," Maeve continued, chuckling softly, "if you can't see a whacking great neon sign saying 'Kiss me, you fool' then there's no hope for you."

"The bulbs were all broken," Otis mock protested, feeling very uncomfortable.

"You were just not looking, muppet," Maeve smiled, shaking her head.

"Well," Otis murmured and went with it. "The glow you were giving off was blinding me."

Maeve stared fondly into his eyes for a few moments. "You're so sweet, muppet," she said softly.

Jean smiled and said, "I remember when your father asked me to commit to a relationship. We were at a party in Soho and we'd hooked up a few times—"

"Mum," Otis protested, loud enough to make Maeve jump.

Jean blinked and pondered. "On second thoughts, that may actually be an inappropriate moment to repeat to my son."

Otis shook his head in disbelief and Maeve wondered exactly what Jean would consider inappropriate.

Jean sighed. "Tell me, Maeve, are your parents as embarrassing to you as I obviously am to my son?"

"Mum," Otis whined.

"No," Maeve said and then a sense of _déjà vu_ came over her and she stammered, "I mean…"

Jean smiled and shook her head. "So what do your parents do, Maeve?" she asked, innocently.

Otis quickly turned to his girlfriend. "Maeve, you don't—" he began, concerned.

Maeve shook her head and realised she wasn't quite as prepared for this moment as she thought she would be. "It's okay, Otis. Jackson's mums asked the same thing."

Jean noticed the sudden undercurrent and said, "I'm sorry. I'm prying."

"No, Jean, you're not," Maeve said quickly then turned to Otis and said, "It's a normal question, muppet."

Jean took a sip of her wine and wondered where the minefield had been hiding.

Maeve collected her thoughts and took a breath then looked at Jean and her voice carried an undertone of rehearsal. "I don't know my dad. I popped out and he took off. I've been told I met him but I don't remember him."

Jean inhaled a soft breath and kept her eyes on Maeve's and stayed silent.

"And my mum's an addict," Maeve continued. "In and out of rehab all the time. Haven't seen her in a couple of years. Last I heard she was up north with her latest fella."

Jean noticed Otis put his hand gently on Maeve's shoulder and Maeve relax slightly against it.

"And I have a brother called 'Idiot'," Maeve continued. "He's out of my life at the moment. His choice."

When Jean seemed sure Maeve was not going to say any more, she said quietly, "That can't have been easy for you to tell me, Maeve."

Maeve shrugged. "I lied to the parents of my last boyfriend. That didn't work out well."

"I appreciate your honesty, Maeve," Jean said, softly. "Truly."

Maeve nodded and pressed her lips together in an uncertain smile. "Me and Otis have a thing about honesty today."

"We're not our parents, Maeve," said Jean then noticed Maeve's reaction and backed off and turned to look at her son and smiled, ruefully, "and I can see Otis is very grateful for that."

Maeve looked at Otis and smiled gently, murmuring, "He shouldn't be."

Otis gazed at her tenderly.

Maeve took a few moments to accept his love then breathed deeply and glanced around the table and said, "That really was delicious, Jean. You're a very good cook."

"Do you cook much, Maeve?" Jean asked after a slight pause.

"Nothing fancy," Maeve shrugged. "Since I live alone, most times I can't be bothered going to the effort."

"Living alone is no reason to forgo the pleasure of cooking," Jean said, hoping they were inching their way back to safe ground. "Preparing a meal for oneself is an expression of self-love."

Otis dropped his head and rolled his eyes. Maeve noticed but kept her attention on Jean.

"We spend time and effort preparing a meal which lets us know that we value ourselves," continued Jean.

"I've never thought of it that way," said Maeve.

"And, of course, cooking also relates to other forms of love," Jean continued, seeming to get into her stride. "Cooking for Otis is a demonstration of familial love."

Otis raised his head in trepidation as he sensed where this was going.

Jean continued, oblivious. "And of course, there's cooking for a lover or sexual partner—"

"Mum," Otis protested.

"Food and sexuality have been linked for centuries—" Jean said, calmly.

"Can't we just let this meal be about food?" he asked, frustrated.

Maeve reached out and slowly stroked his shoulder.

"Sexuality is part of our existence, Otis," said Jean.

"Jean's not wrong, muppet," Maeve said quietly.

Otis looked at Maeve then lowered his eyes and shook his head. Maeve gave his shoulder another gentle rub.

Jean studied their interaction, wondering why her son – whom she loved dearly – always had to make a drama out of everything especially when she was only trying to restore normality to the evening.

"Otis is a really good cook, Maeve," she finally said, hoping this was not another minefield.

"Mum," Otis protested without force.

"It's okay, muppet. This is part of the sales pitch," soothed Maeve.

"He's a natural at cooking. Give him a quick look at a recipe and I'm sure he can make anything."

"That's not true, mum," Otis said, almost blushing.

"Don't be modest, Otis," Jean said. "You should claim the things you are good at."

"Do you watch a lot of cooking shows, Otis?" Maeve looked at him and asked, blandly.

"Sometimes," Otis said. "More than sometimes."

"And he can come up with some really nice variations so it's not the same thing all the time. Very inventive," Jean said.

"Really?" Maeve said, looking at Otis with a smirk and wondering whether his mother understood what she was actually saying.

"Need to switch things up a bit," Otis said, still not quite getting it. "Keeps things interesting."

"It certainly does," Maeve murmured.

"So would either of you like dessert?" Jean asked, hoping the minefields were behind them.

"No, thanks, mum."

"No, thanks, Jean."

Jean nodded and stood. "Otis, could you help me clear the table, please?"

Otis nodded and stood and was reaching for the plates when his phone rang.

He was torn between answering it and helping his mother when Maeve gently rubbed his shoulder.

"Answer it, Otis," she said. "I'll do this."

Otis gazed at her for a moment then nodded and took his phone out of his pocket and walked over to the far edge of the balcony as he answered it.

Jean glanced at Maeve as she began to gather the plates and cutlery from the table and then Jean grabbed the remains of the stir-fry.

They walked into the house in silence and Jean placed the stir-fry on the kitchen table then walked over and opened the dishwasher. She took the plates from Maeve and placed them in the dishwasher and closed the door.

Jean slowly turned to Maeve and began to speak, tentatively, "I'm s—"

"Don't say sorry, Jean. It's okay. It's a normal question to ask. I knew you would."

Jean nodded and took a deep breath. "It must be hard, Maeve. Choosing independence at your age is one thing, having it forced on you is entirely different."

"I manage."

"I'm sure you do. Doesn't mean it won't get tiring sometimes."

Maeve glanced out the window at Otis as he talked on the phone, smiling.

"Some days are harder than others," she said. "Muppet makes it easier."

Jean mouthed 'muppet', smiling to herself.

Maeve noticed. "He's making me soft," she said, wryly.

"The strength to be vulnerable is one of our greatest strengths," Jean said softly.

"Are you trying to therapize me, Jean?" Maeve asked, smiling.

Jean pursed her lips into a smile of chastened acknowledgement. "Would I do that, Maeve?"

"It reminds me of him," Maeve said, softly.

"I'm sure he wouldn't like hearing that," Jean said, wryly.

"Tough," said Maeve, smiling.

Jean stared at her softly. "I'm really glad you came over tonight, Maeve. I'm really glad to have met you."

"Me, too," said Maeve. "It's been really good. All of it."

Jean nodded and smiled. "I'll leave you two alone now. I have some things I need to do. I hope you come over again, Maeve."

Maeve nodded as Jean walked out onto the balcony to pick up her wine glass from the table. Jean caught Otis' eye, smiled and indicated the direction of her office. Otis nodded and returned to his phone call.

Jean walked back inside, smiled at Maeve then walked toward her office.

Otis looked up as Maeve stepped back onto the balcony, spoke briefly into his phone then put the phone back in his pocket. He glanced at the table which had been cleared of the dinner plates and cutlery.

"Sorry," he said sheepishly.

Maeve shook her head. "It's okay. Who was it?"

"Eric."

"What did he want?"

"He was wondering about your reaction to the décor?" Otis said after a pause.

"It _is_ an interesting art collection your mum has," Maeve murmured, smirking.

"I did warn you."

"Some of it is actually really good. I like the orchid on the wall."

"That's, um…"

"I know. I just didn't feel like saying 'minge'."

"I should be used to it by now but…" Otis murmured.

"It's intimidating?"

"Well, I'm not making comparisons between myself and the item on the side cupboard, if that's what you mean."

"I should hope not. No way something that size would ever come near me," said Maeve and smiled at Otis' returning discomfort.

"It's just… I can't get away from it," Otis sighed. "It's everywhere. Sex sex sex sex sex."

"Teenager's lot in life, innit?"

"At least if I was into porn I could turn it off. But they're always there."

"Have you asked your mum to move some of the more… expressive items?" Maeve asked softly.

Otis rolled his eyes and sighed. "She says there's nothing wrong with representations of sexuality and to deny their existence or seek to hide them from our view would be to generate many neuroses that could inhibit forming my own sexual relationships."

Otis shrugged and raised his eyebrows in disbelief and Maeve pursed her lips sympathetically.

"She's really nice," she said. "Thank you for letting me meet her. I kind of feel like I've known her forever."

"I'm surprised at some of the things you came out with tonight."

Maeve grinned. "Yeah, me, too, but she's so cool."

Otis looked sceptically at her.

"I'm looking from the outside, remember?" Maeve said.

Otis stepped toward her. "I'm sorry about—"

"It was normal, Otis. If I didn't want to say anything, I would have made something up again. I knew she'd be okay with it."

"How?"

"Because you've told me about her. More than I think you even know." Maeve paused and swallowed then asked, "Do you really not share anything with your mum?"

Otis flinched and sighed. "What else did she say?"

"No, it was just watching the two of you. Listening to you. She just wants to be part of your life, Otis."

"I just…"

"Why not just share some little things? The stuff we've talked about tonight. Most of it wasn't anything that it's really bad for her to know, was it?"

"The letter?" Otis asked.

Maeve almost blushed. "Yes, well, I was feeling relaxed. Forgot myself for a moment. But other than that?"

Otis was quiet for a moment then bowed his head. "No."

"No. So why not try giving her those types of things and then maybe she'll back off a little for the things you really don't want her to know?"

Otis looked at the ground and sighed then raised his head to look directly into Maeve's eyes and nodded. "I'll try."

Maeve smiled softly. "Good."

"So what did you tell Jackson's mums?" Otis asked, eager to change the subject.

"My parents were accountants."

"Do you know much about accounting?"

"No," Maeve said, sheepishly.

"Was a good choice."

Maeve crinkled her nose. "Where's the lav?" she asked, smiling.

"Diarrhea attack?" Otis smirked.

"No," she chuckled.

"Up the stairs. My bedroom is at the end. Bathroom is on the right just before it. I'll be up in a few minutes."

Maeve walked back inside and Otis followed her. He watched as she walked up the stairs and smiled as she turned to smile at him before disappearing from sight.

He heard movement from his mother's office and walked over to the door.

Jean seemed almost startled as she turned from her laptop.

"Something wrong, darling?" she asked, hoping guilt wasn't showing on her face.

"What are you writing about?" Otis asked, idly curious.

"Oh, nothing. Just… complete rubbish. I've already deleted it. Emptied the trash. Gone."

Otis nodded. "So what made you start writing again?"

Jean paused. "Your father. He can be just so…"

"Condescending?" Otis asked with a smile.

Jean smiled blandly. "He's your father. You shouldn't say such things about him."

"So what are you going to write about now? Any ideas?"

"They say write what you know. Post-divorce sexuality? Post-divorce trust issues? I don't know."

Jean had turned away and didn't notice Otis flinch momentarily before covering it up.

"Anyway, I'll figure it out," Jean sighed then turned back to Otis. "More importantly, Maeve is lovely, Otis."

"She's amazing, isn't she?" Otis grinned.

"I hope you invite her over again."

"She really likes you as well," Otis murmured. "Too much."

Jean smiled. "I wasn't too bad, was I?"

Otis smiled, paused, took a deep breath and said, "Mum…?"

"Hmm?" Jean hummed.

"Remember how last night I asked you not to sleep with Ola's dad?"

Jean hoped this lot of guilt also wasn't written over her face. "Ah, yes…"

"I was wrong. I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry," Otis said.

Jean gazed at him in surprise.

Otis swallowed and continued. "If you like Ola's dad and you're lucky enough that he likes you, I don't want you to not take the chance of being happy if you want to try. I don't want to be the person stopping you trying."

Jean took in a slow breath and studied her son's face. She could see he was fighting his tendency for concealment.

"I love Maeve," Otis said, "I really do and I'm feeling really happy right now, mum. Despite you two ganging up on me."

Jean put her hand to her chest in a gesture of mock-shock, her eyes glittering.

"It'd be nice if you could be happy like that," Otis said, softly. "Again."

Jean tried to conceal how moved she was. "Of course, this has nothing to do with the fact that if I was involved with someone I'd have less time to pry into your life."

Otis shrugged and smiled. "There's a small possibility that was taken into consideration as a beneficial side-effect."

Jean stood and stepped forward and Otis stepped into her arms.

"Darling," Jean said quietly.

Otis took a deep breath and forced himself to speak. "I almost lost Maeve last night, mum. It wasn't a good night," he said quietly. "I hurt her. Big time. That's what the letter was. An apology." He paused a moment. "I don't want you to lose somebody if he means something to you."

They held their embrace for a few moments then stepped back and stared at each other.

Jean blinked a few times and swallowed before speaking. "Thank you for opening up to me, Otis," she said quietly. "Thank you for sharing. I miss when you used to share things with me."

Otis nodded and pressed his lips together in a soft smile. "I'm still delirious from Maeve asking me to be her boyfriend. Don't get used to it."

Jean smiled knowingly at him. "I won't," she whispered. "Now go on. I think there's a lucky girl waiting for you."

Otis nodded and turned and walked out of his mother's office.

Jean called after him. "You know where the condoms are if you need them."

* * *

**Author's Notes: I still don't think I managed to achieve what I was aiming for. ****Hope it's enjoyable enough.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Notes: Sometimes, writing feels like walking across the Grand Canyon on a high wire without a safety net. One false step either side and this story comes crashing down.**

**Otis being who he is, there are elements to his story that need delicate handling and it is easy to make that one step either side of the wire. (I've come close to publishing complete rubbish a few times.)**

**I hope I've managed to keep my feet straight and this isn't the chapter that goes splat.**

**(Even though I don't respond individually, I really do appreciate your feedback and kudos. They help calm my nerves as I progress further across that Canyon.)**

* * *

**Chapter 10**

Maeve slowly pushed open the door to Otis' room, bit her lip and stepped inside. She looked around – at his posters on the walls, his shelves containing his books and records, his desk – and smiled approvingly, sensing – hoping – this would turn out to be a place she would become intimately familiar with.

She looked at the photos stuck to the posts and smiled at the one of Otis and Eric. He was wearing his jacket and she had become so used to seeing him in it that on those days when he wasn't wearing it she often felt that he was coming to school naked.

She walked around the room, noticing the broken closet, idly running her fingers over nearby surfaces, glancing at his massive music collection as she passed it, wondering how he kept track of it all and how easy it would be to find something they could slow dance to.

When she reached his desk, she saw his biology textbook and noticed the drawing from that day in class sticking out. She took the drawing from the book and looked at it and saw Otis had written their names on it and circled them and she smiled. She bit her lip, looked around, saw a pen and picked it up.

When she had finished making adjustments, she replaced the pen and put the drawing on top of the biology textbook, wondering how long it would take for him to notice.

She glanced around the room again then slowly walked over to his bed and wondered if this would be the place where they would finally have sex. Not tonight, of course. Tonight was for hugging and kissing and holding hands and maybe, just maybe, a little slow-dancing. But someday.

She hesitated a moment then lay on the bed on her side and pressed her face against his pillows, smelling him on them, wondering if she had time to recreate last-night-with-his-jumper only in a much happier place of saying little hellos instead of a sad goodbye and then she smiled at the thought of Otis' reaction if he walked into his room to find his new girlfriend lying on his bed, skirt hiked up and hand down her pants and her nose buried in his pillows.

She couldn't do that to the poor muppet, but tonight, when she got home, she would have so much new material for dreaming to.

She wondered how often he had dreamt of her being here and what they did when they were.

When she heard his approaching footsteps, she rolled onto her back and shuffled to lean back against the headboard and straightened her skirt slightly and crossed her legs at the ankles and looked toward the door with an inviting gaze.

Otis stepped through the doorway and stopped as he saw her and his breath stole quietly away from him.

"Hello, boyfriend," Maeve almost purred.

Otis took only a moment to recover. He swallowed and smiled at her then glanced down at her feet. "You're still here. Both shoes still on. Change your mind?"

"Thought about it. But I looked out the window and realised I'd break my neck climbing out there. So you're stuck with me."

"Terrible hardship," he murmured.

"Suck it up, muppet," she murmured in return.

Otis turned to close the door and said, "Sorry I took so long. Mum forgot to put the leftovers in the fridge again."

He took a slow deep breath and turned back to her and was puzzled to see her staring at him, lips pursed and clearly pondering something.

"What?" he asked.

"Just wondering if that counts as apologising for being you."

"It's social etiquette to apologise for keeping someone waiting," Otis protested. "That's not apologising for being myself."

"I don't know, Milburn. You've been known to confuse a girl with your words. Maybe I better start taking things off just to be on the safe side."

Maeve swung her legs off the bed and stood up, beginning to take her jacket off.

"Maeve…" he stammered. "How… this… if you keep changing the rules, how am I supposed to—"

She glanced back at him, smiling, eyes glittering. "I'm just warm, Otis. That's all."

"Oh, jeez," Otis sighed, relaxing and shaking his head then his eyes glanced at the window." Oh, no wonder."

He started walking to the window above his desk as Maeve struggled out of her jacket.

"I closed the window last night because there were a couple of cats having sex just outside," he said. "You won't believe how that noise carries from down there."

Maeve smiled as she finished removing her jacket and draped it across the top of his dresser as Otis leaned over and opened the window to let some fresher air in. She noticed the sleeves of his jumper were now bunched over her hands and she began rolling them up out of the way.

"You can't get away from it, can you, muppet?" she said.

"Especially when my girlfriend won't let me," Otis muttered.

"Anybody would think you didn't want to see me naked," Maeve smirked.

Otis glanced quickly at her and quickly away and Maeve knew that certainly wasn't true and she only wished he could accept it as a normal desire. But. Slowly.

"Just say your safe word, Otis," she said softly, "and I'll settle down."

Otis dropped his head and was about to say something when he noticed the drawing sitting on top of his textbook and frowned. He picked it up, studied it and smiled, turning to Maeve who was watching him with glittering eyes and a shining smile.

"You really _are_ getting soft, Maeve," he said. "A heart with an arrow through it?'

Maeve shrugged, still smiling.

Otis gazed at her with shining eyes.

"By the way, I did know where the hymen was," she said. "I just wanted to see you be embarrassed again."

"You're a cruel person, Maeve," he said, shaking his head, smiling.

"But I didn't know the name of the paraurethral glands, though. That was impressive."

Otis put the drawing down and walked across to her, chuckling softly to himself. His arms opened and she stepped into them.

"You really are going to be the death of me, Maeve Wiley," he said.

"I'll give you the kiss of life. Bring you back," she murmured and raised her head to meet his lips and she noticed he was again not quite as comfortable in his own skin as he was by the road outside his home or on their bench – or even, she now realised, when she kissed him for the gift and kissed him for the letter. Not quite as comfortable but still an amazing kisser.

"Y'know, Otis," Maeve began when their lips parted. "You watched a lot of rom-coms and you're an amazing kisser. You say you watch a lot of cooking shows and your mum says you're a really good cook. You think we should check out some porn when the time comes?"

Otis shook in startlement and released her and jumped back and refused to look at her. "Maeve," he said. "Okay. Flamingo."

Maeve pressed her lips together and looked up at him. "Sorry," she said softly and her lips almost didn't move.

"No," Otis breathed deeply and said, shaking his head, annoyed with himself. "You're just being you and I like you being you. You're behaving like all the other times we've been messing around and you've been teasing me – it's just now you're teasing me on a sexual level and you weren't before."

Maeve swallowed and took a deep breath and said gently, "I'm sorry, Otis. I'm in a giddy mood, but I promised, take it slowly. I'll settle down, take it slowly." She paused, blinked a few times. "I love you, Otis. I don't want to make things harder for you."

Otis paused, nodded, took another deep breath and looked into her eyes and was about to say something when he glanced at the bed and had a thought. "Do you want… do you want to lie on the bed and talk? I mean, just talk."

She nodded. "Yeah," she said softly.

He nodded, took her hand gently and walked over to the bed with her then released her hand and clambered onto the bed, scooting over to the far side.

Maeve sat on the edge of the bed and said, "Let me just take my feet off first."

Otis frowned as he watched her lean over and reach down then he realised she was taking off her shoes and he glanced down at his own feet.

"Oh, yeah," he said and swung his legs off the bed and sat up and reached down to remove his own shoes.

When they were in his hand he turned to Maeve and reached out his other hand and said, "Here give me them and I'll put them over there."

Maeve reached down and grabbed her shoes and helped Otis take them. "There you go, Prince Charming."

Otis smiled and stood and carried the shoes over to the broken closet. Behind him, Maeve lay back on the bed and rolled over and watched him as he returned to the bed, lay down on his side directly opposite her and looked into her eyes.

She breathed slowly and wanted to ask about the closet but kept silent and waited for him to speak.

Otis gazed adoringly at her. "I love the mood you're in, Maeve. Don't stop."

"But if it's making things difficult for you…" she murmured.

"I said my safe word, you backed off."

She moved the hand laying on the bed and her fingers found his and she clasped them and he clasped back.

"So what does slowly mean for you?" she asked.

Otis breathed slowly a few times before answering. "This," he said.

"Then let's just do this," Maeve murmured, smiling at him.

After a moment, Otis murmured, "Lily didn't like it."

"I'm not Lily," Maeve replied.

Otis smiled, squeezed her hand gently then they simply gazed into each other's eyes for a while.

"Do you mind if I ask what you did with Lily when you brought her back here?" Maeve asked, cautiously.

"You can ask," said Otis.

Maeve waited and waited and then smiled and shook her head and snorted a chuckle and asked, "What did you do with Lily when you brought her back here?"

Otis grinned. "We sat on the end of the bed. That's when the shark attack happened. That's when I told her I needed a safe word and I needed to take things slowly."

"She just wanted to get on with it?"

"Yeah."

Maeve jiggled his hand a little. "I like this, Otis. This is nice."

Otis nodded.

"What next?" Maeve asked.

"She wanted to put on some music. Set the mood."

"What music did you put on?"

"Whale song," he admitted, sheepishly.

"What?"

"It was next to go. I use it to go to sleep. It's very relaxing."

"Not really conducive to boning, though."

"No," he agreed, smiling slightly.

"What else did you put on?"

"Just some soft jazz."

"Sounds nice."

"Then she started talking about seven foot whale penises and drowning in their…" he hesitated. "Cum," he forced himself to say, glancing at the space behind Maeve.

"Okay, that would have turned me right off," said Maeve, scrunching her face.

Otis looked back at her. "I wasn't exactly raring to go for it, anyway."

"So what prompted you to try at that point?" she asked, softly.

Otis glanced down, eyes settling on their entwined fingers.

Maeve squeezed his hand gently. "You don't have to tell me anything, honey, if you don't want to," she said.

Otis grimaced and raised his eyebrows as he looked at her. "'Honey'?"

She smiled ruefully. "Yeah, I'm not gonna use that one again."

"I like when you call me muppet," Otis said. "I wish I could come up with a good name for you. 'Diamond'?"

Maeve shook her head quickly. "When you said that, you made me feel really special. If you keep using it, it won't be special. I like how you say 'Maeve'."

Otis nodded, gave her a small smile and their eyes caressed each other for a while.

"It was dad," Otis eventually said. "No, it wasn't. It was me, but…"

Maeve hated seeing the distress in his eyes and gently stroked his fingers with her thumb.

"Do you think it's flamingo time, Otis," she said gently.

After a moment, he nodded and took a deep breath. "So what do you want to talk about, Maeve?"

Maeve smiled fondly at him then glanced across the room. "You have a huge music collection."

"That's just mum and dad's LPs. CDs are down in the cupboard over there and then there's the stuff on my phone."

"How do you keep track of it all?"

"I've got an app. Title, artist, tracknames. Nothing fancy."

"Got anything we could slow dance to?"

Otis looked at her in surprise.

"Would you like to dance?" she asked, hopefully.

"I'd love to dance," he said, grinning, mood rising and rolled over and sat up and reached for his phone. "I can't really dance but… you'll just have to put up with it."

He started searching through the music on his phone. "Any preference?" he asked.

"Something romantic," Maeve said, rising and curling her legs under her on the bed.

"Fifties? Sixties? Seventies? Eighties? Nineties? Noughties?"

"Not in the mood for the naughties at the moment," she said, smiling as he glanced back at her, grimacing at what he assumed was a deliberate pun.

"Okay, just tell me if you don't like this," Otis said and put the phone down, plugging it into the speakers he had set up. "It'll take a moment to buffer."

He stood up and held his hand out to Maeve. Grinning, she clambered off the bed and took his hand and stepped in closer. His arm encircled her waist and her arm curled across his shoulders.

"Actually, you're probably going to have to lead," Otis said. "Eric always leads so I'm not used to it."

"Okay," Maeve said, smiling as they adjusted position and then his chosen first song began playing and they slowly began dancing, gazing into each other's eyes, smiling fondly at each other.

_Oh_

_Now I don't hardly know her_

_But I think I could love her_

"I've got a few lined up after this," Otis said.

"Shhhh," said Maeve.

_Ah_

_I wish she'd come walking over_

_Now I've been waiting to show her_

"It's not like I have a romantic song playlist or anything," Otis said.

"Shhhh," said Maeve.

The first break began playing.

"Okay, this bit isn't really slow dancing music," said Otis.

"Otis, I didn't ask for a running commentary," said Maeve.

* * *

Music was still blasting out of the speakers and it was obvious to anyone within earshot they had moved beyond slow-dancing. Tommy James had evolved through the course of an incredibly eclectic playlist containing The Who and Ezra Furman and Slotface and Dylan and Bikini Kill and The Troggs and Hole and more than either Maeve or Otis could remember and now Billy Idol was their guest of honour.

Otis was doing his version of head-banging and playing air guitar and Maeve watched him be cute as she performed her own version of The Twist, arms held out in front of her moving as if she were manually turning the pedals of an upturned bike, singing along with Billy. Otis' jumper had been discarded on a chair and beneath it had been the only vaguely feline top she owned and she knew Otis liked it when it had revealed itself.

_A-when there's no one else in sight,_

_A-in crowded lonely night_

_Well, I wait so long for my love vibration_

_And I'm dancing with myself_

"Come on, Otis," she urged. "Sing."

"I can't sing, Maeve," he said.

"You got a great voice, Otis. You're better than Alanis."

_If I had the chance I'd ask the world to dance_

_And I'll be dancin' with myself_

Otis looked up and watched her be gorgeous as she raised her arms above her head, swaying them as if she was having to keep weights in the air, shaking her head from side to side with the beat.

_Oh oh, Dancing with a-myself,_

_Oh, oh, dancing with myself_

Otis stepped forward and held out his hand and she saw and took it and he pulled her gently forward and to his side and watched as she spun in a circle as she passed by him, releasing his hand when at the end of his stretch and spinning back around to face him as he turned to face her.

_So let's sink another drink_

_Cause it'll give me time to think_

Maeve reached out her hand and Otis took it and she pulled him gently forward and to the side and watched as he spun in a circle as he passed by her, releasing her hand when at the end of her stretch and spinning back around to face her as she turned to face him.

_Oh oh, Dancing with a-myself,_

_Oh, oh, dancing with myself_

They reached for each other's hands in mid-air and performed a rhythmic gentle push-pull, bodies moving to the beat, singing into each other's face.

_If I had the chance I'd ask the world to dance_

_If I had the chance I'd ask the world to dance_

_Oh, oh, oh, oh oh_

_Oh, oh, oh dancin' with myself_

The song ended and nothing replaced it and Maeve curled over laughing and a smiling Otis watched her, almost shocked at how good he was feeling.

Maeve looked at him, grinning. "You are a great dancer, Otis. What's wrong with you? 'Oh, I can't dance'."

Otis smiled at her impersonation of himself and watched as she staggered over and flopped back onto his bed. He staggered over to join her and as he settled by her side she raised herself, reached over and draped her hand across his chest and bent her head down to kiss him and as their tongues played gleefully with each other and his hand reached up to rest gently on her shoulder neither of them realized that this was the most comfortable he had ever been. That either had ever been.

The kissing ended and Maeve flopped backwards onto the bed again and they stared at the ceiling, chests heaving as they recovered from their dancing.

"Shit, Otis. I'm glad you invited me over," she said, breathlessly.

"First date with my mum wasn't bad, was it?" he said, breathlessly.

"It was brilliant," she murmured.

"We have to think where to go for our second date. Are you doing anything tomorrow night, Maeve?"

"Depends."

"On what?"

"On whether you ask me out somewhere."

"Would you like to go out to dinner with me tomorrow night, Maeve?" Otis asked, grinning as he looked at her.

Maeve turned her head to face him, returning his grin. "Sure. Where are we going?"

"Let's just get something simple. Want to go to Speedy Grill?"

"No," she said immediately.

"Don't like it?" he asked.

"I work there," she said.

"What?" he said, surprised, rising on one elbow to look down at her.

"Occasionally. I don't get as many shifts as I used to. They have to pay me too much now I'm seventeen."

"You never told me you worked there," he said, still grinning as he shook his head.

"I know," she said, smiling as she looked into his eyes.

"Why not?"

"I didn't want you coming over while I was on shift. Get real."

"Why not?"

"Have you seen that fucking uniform? I look like a yellow wotsit."

"I bet you look gorgeous," he said, eyes roaming all over her face.

"Are you objectifying me, Milburn?" she asked fondly.

"Yes," he said, holding his smiling gaze on her.

"No," she said, firmly.

"I owe Eric for… y'know… his birthday. That'll be perfect. He'll love it."

"No," she said again, smirking, eyes glittering.

"Spoilsport," he said, bending down and their lips touched and their tongues played and Maeve brought her hand up to gently caress his cheek and she was amazed how quickly Otis was getting even better at this when he was comfortable in his own skin and when they broke apart and she gazed adoringly up at him gazing adoringly down at her, she finally realized.

"How are you feeling?" she asked softly after a moment, biting her lip.

"Fine," he said, puzzled.

"I mean, this. Us. You leaning over me like that. Kissing."

"Great. Really good," he watched her carefully, trying to see if he had found the words she was looking for.

She nodded then said gently, without ever taking her eyes from his, "Your hand's been on my breast for the last couple of minutes."

Otis stared at her then looked down at his hand caressing her right breast and snatched it away in horror and glanced around the room, unable to look at her.

She quickly raised her hand to gently grab his wrist. "Shush, shush," she said, soothingly, watching him carefully. "It's okay, Otis. It's okay. It's the next step, isn't it? Hugging, kissing, boob."

He gave a small involuntary chuckle then froze for a moment before summoning all his courage to turn to look at her. She wasn't sure if it was embarrassment or shame or something else in his eyes but it was obvious to her that he was too shocked with himself to even attempt to apologise.

"It's really okay, Otis," she said, softly, never taking her eyes from his.

He swallowed but could not speak.

"Touch it again," she said gently. "Your choice, but I'd like you to."

Otis hitched a breath, hesitated, stared into Maeve's loving eyes.

"It didn't explode last time you touched it. It probably won't this time," she said, smiling gently.

He smiled involuntarily and slowly nodded and slowly reached over to gently replace his hand on her right breast, thumb resting directly over her nipple.

She let him see how good that felt to her.

"How does it feel?" she almost whispered.

Otis glanced down at his hand then back into her eyes.

"It feels good, Maeve," and his voice was barely a whisper.

She smiled and her eyes glittered. "It feels really good from this end, Otis."

She raised her head slightly, lips parting and she was pleased when he mirrored her and their lips and tongues met and it was far more tentative than a few minutes ago but it was confirmation.

Their lips broke apart and Maeve was pleased Otis kept looking at her.

"It's when you're inside your head," she said. "That's when you've felt uncomfortable with all this. Kissing. This." She glanced in the direction of his hand on her breast.

Otis slowly removed his hand but kept his gaze on her, taking in her words.

"Up on the road, on our bench," Maeve continued gently. "You were there, Otis," she said, glancing at his chest, hoping he understood her meaning. "You were… comfortable in your own skin, is the phrase I've been using. Does that sound right?"

Otis rolled away from her and sat up, looking at the floor, pondering. "Yes," he eventually said. "I was trying to figure out the difference."

Maeve nodded and raised herself to be sitting beside him. She looked tenderly at him then raised her hand to tentatively rest against his shoulder, allowing it to settle once he didn't flinch.

"You okay?" she asked.

He nodded.

"You don't feel like you're going to have a panic attack?"

He shook his head.

"Embarrassed?"

"A little," he nodded after a moment.

"I'm not," she said. "If that helps."

He looked at her and held her gaze for a moment, then nodded.

"Good," she said and glanced at the clock. "I'm sorry. I'm going to have to go, Otis, unless…"

She looked carefully at him, unsure whether he needed space or a friend or a girlfriend at the moment.

"Do you still need to talk?" she asked, tenderly.

He looked at her and shook his head. "No, Maeve, n—" he began and then looked away, thoughts churning.

"If you need to talk, Otis – and you don't have to – I'm here to listen."

Maeve waited as Otis turned things over in his mind and then breathed deeply and shook his head.

"No, Maeve, I'll be fine." He gazed at her as if he was again seeing her in a new light. "Thanks," he said, softly.

"Okay." She nodded, understood that right now he needed space to think or whatever, and she rose to her feet and walked over to collect her shoes.

She hoped he wouldn't freak out once she left.

* * *

Maeve and Otis stood beneath the porch light. Maeve had put her jacket back on. Otis' shirt was still a little sweat-soaked from their dancing.

"Say 'bye to your mum for me if she's still awake," Maeve said.

"Couldn't see the light on in her office but I'll let her know," Otis said.

Their eyes caressed each other for a few moments.

"Thanks again for inviting me over, Otis. It's been a really good night from my side."

Otis nodded. "Thanks for… y'know…"

"I got the better part of the bargain," Maeve smirked. "You gonna wash that hand?"

Otis chuckled and said, "Maybe not," and Maeve could see he was still a little embarrassed but she could see no sign of anything more or worse.

Maeve stepped forward and Otis spread his arms and they embraced and kissed again – no tongues this time - and Maeve could sense that he was as close to being comfortable in his own skin as he could be without quite getting there.

"Goodnight, sweetheart," Maeve said as their kiss ended.

Otis grimaced. "'Sweetheart'?"

"I'm just trying them on to see if they fit," Maeve said in mock annoyance. "I won't use that one again, alright? Bloody hell."

"It's alright, pumpkin. I'll forgive you."

Maeve smirked and gave him a quick peck on the lips.

"You better," she said then gave him a last fond look in the eyes and turned to walk away up the stairs to the road.

"You sure you'll be okay getting home alone? I can come with you. Take my bike. Ride it back," Otis called after her.

Maeve stopped and turned, looking at him with a fond smile.

"It's alright, Otis," she said. "I'll be fine. Thanks."

Otis nodded and Maeve gazed at him for a few moments.

"Goodnight, boyfriend," she said.

"Goodnight, girlfriend," he said.

Maeve nodded and turned and continued up the stairs.

"I'll text you when I get home," she called back over her shoulder.

Otis watched her until he couldn't see her anymore then he kept watching the direction she disappeared to just in case she forgot something and had to come back. When he finally walked back inside, half an hour had passed. He left the light on for her, just in case.

* * *

**Author's Notes: I hope this step forward worked and doesn't feel too unbelievable yet for Otis. It is only their first day together, after all.**

**There's a photo out there of Maeve in a yellow top over the top she was wearing when we first saw her. (I think it's that one.) It could be photo-shopped but likely from a deleted sequence. I can't remember seeing it in the show.**

**Anyway, that's where the Speedy Grill bit came from. I can't quite read the logo in the photo.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Notes: Sorry for the delay. Took a while to get the structure worked out. I know (vaguely) where I'm going but not necessarily how to get there and sometimes ideas or their executions just don't work.**

**And it's a huge fall off that tightrope across the Grand Canyon. Still not sure if I've slipped off it with this chapter and I'm still falling and just waiting for the splat.**

**Warning: Teenage boys again talking about s-e-x.**

**Warning: Teenage girls again talking about teh secks as writted (sic) by a bloke who has a vague memory of overhearing conversations between only women many moons ago about that very subject.**

**Warning: Basically, the dialogue and descriptions are going to get more… earthy… from now on since Otis and Maeve are becoming more intimate and Eric has no filter. (Aimee's no slouch in that department, either.)**

**Please let me know if you think I'm going astray.**

* * *

**Chapter 11**

**Day 3**

Otis dashed out his front door, calling back, "Don't forget I'm having dinner with Maeve tonight, mum."

He dashed up the stairs to the road where Eric was sitting on his bike, waiting for him.

"You're looking chipper this morning," Eric said.

Otis nodded, a little breathless as he started unchaining his bike from the fence. "I'm… feeling good, Eric, yes."

"Did you and Maeve break your bed last night?" Eric asked.

Otis dropped his head and smiled. "Eric," he protested without force and continued freeing his bike.

"I bet you did. You wouldn't be smiling like that if you didn't. Little Cupcake Otis."

"We did not," Otis said firmly.

"If Maeve is a little cupcake this morning, I'll know you're lying, Otis."

"Maeve and I did not have sex last night, Eric."

Eric glanced down at the house. "Is that a lawyer's answer? Is she still in there and you gave her your morning wood and now she's just waiting for me to leave so I won't find out?"

Otis dragged his bike around and straddled it then checked his helmet. "Why are you so interested in my sex life with Maeve? Or lack thereof," he hastily added at Eric's look.

"Because I'm hoping that when you finally do it with her you'll loosen up, man."

"Well, we didn't, so… not-loose Otis," he said, indicating himself and starting to ride off.

Eric stared after him for a moment then began to ride to catch up to him.

"I'm so disappointed in you, Otis," he said.

* * *

Eric and Otis were at their lockers, transferring items to and from their bags.

"Did I tell you I think Mum may have a real thing for Ola's dad?" Otis said.

"Really?" Eric asked, intrigued.

"Ola said they shagged and she said her dad really seemed to like Mum. And the way Mum seemed after I said something about him last night… I really think she might."

Eric pondered for a moment. "So if Ola's dad becomes your step-dad, that means Ola will be your step-sister which means you will have dated your step-sister."

Otis hadn't thought of that.

"That's weird even for you, Otis."

After a moment's pondering Otis said, "We wouldn't be blood-related so… not an issue."

"Everybody knows Greg Brady did it with Marcia when they were alone in the house," Eric said, smugly. "You and Ola could be Greg and Marcia if it doesn't work out with Maeve."

"Don't jinx things, Eric," Otis said, mildly annoyed, then continued, "Not that I believe in jinxes."

Otis closed his locker and recoiled when he saw Maeve leaning against the lockers beside his, soft smile on her lips, gazing at him with soft clear blue eyes. He wondered for a moment why he was suddenly reminded of Aimee.

"Morning, Greg," Maeve said softly.

"Morning, Marcia," Otis said after a moment, smiling softly at her, eyes shining.

"That only works if Ola's dad adopts me," Maeve murmured.

"We'll set up a dinner with him. Give him a sales pitch."

"You really want to date all your step-sisters, don't you? Bit of a worry," Maeve said, smirking.

Eric closed his locker and smiled at Maeve, completely forgetting his words of moments earlier. "Good morning, Maeve."

Maeve glanced at him. "Morning, Eric."

"You're a little cupcake this morning," Eric said cheerfully, giving Otis a knowing sideways glance.

"What?" Maeve stared at Eric, confused.

Otis leaned towards her and murmured, "Eric thinks we had sex last night."

"Did we?" she asked, looking at Otis questioningly, biting her lip, eyes glittering.

Otis smiled. "No."

"We didn't have sex last night, Eric," Maeve said, not taking her eyes from Otis'.

Eric shook his head, pouting. "You two are so disappointing," he said as he walked away.

"I'll catch you in free study," Otis called after him without taking his eyes from Maeve's.

"You okay after last night, muppet?" she asked softly, studying him.

Otis nodded. "Yeah," he said softly.

"You didn't freak out once I left?" she asked, eyes roaming his face.

"No," Otis said, shaking his head then he took a breath and continued. "But I'm really sorry I didn't ask first, Maeve."

Maeve nodded, adoring him even more.

"I'll ask next time," he promised.

"You're so sure there's going to be a next time," Maeve smirked, then touched his arm at his almost-crestfallen reaction. "It's okay, Otis. We were in the moment. That happens sometimes." She bit her lip. "You're just lucky I didn't grab you someplace."

Otis swallowed and Maeve sucked in a breath through her teeth.

"Flamingo," she said sheepishly.

Otis shook his head. "It's okay. That's… a normal thing, isn't it?"

Maeve sensed he was talking more to himself than to her.

"I'll settle down when we're at school, muppet," she promised.

"Maybe just when we're in public," he said softly. "I think I need you to push me a little, Maeve." He looked directly into her eyes. "I think I want you to push me a little."

Maeve studied him carefully, wondering exactly what understanding he had come to overnight.

"Are you sure?" she asked.

Otis nodded. "Yeah."

"You think it'll help you be outside your head more?"

Otis struggled to find the words to say then gave up. "I need to think about it more. I can't articulate it yet. But… can we talk about it later? At break?"

"Of course," Maeve said.

Otis nodded his gratitude.

"So did you tell Eric?" Maeve asked.

"No."

"It's okay. I don't mind. I've got Aimee, you've got Eric."

Otis hesitated, then said, "Maeve, when I said 'thanks for y'know' I wasn't just meaning that."

Maeve smiled. "You have been worrying about that all night, haven't you?"

"No," Otis said, sheepishly. "I only thought about it this morning."

"I knew what you meant, muppet," Maeve said softly.

"It was a really great night, Maeve."

"I'm sorry I took so long to text when I got home. I was just… thinking about it."

She wondered if he suspected what she was doing while she was thinking about it. The way he seemed this morning she was certain he had been doing his version of the exact same thing.

Otis opened his mouth to say something and the final bell rang.

Otis' shouders slumped. "We still need to talk about where we're going for our second date," he sighed.

"We'll talk at break," Maeve said then leaned forward to kiss him before hesitating. "Um… we didn't actually discuss levels of PDA at school."

Otis smiled and leaned forward and kissed her tenderly – no tongues. "I think I can handle this."

"Comfortable," Maeve murmured.

"Present in the moment," Otis murmured.

Maeve smiled gently. "See you at break, muppet."

Otis watched Maeve walk away then turned to walk to his own class. He wished it was free study. He really wanted to talk to Eric.

Eric may not be able to say anything to actually help but Otis hoped hearing his own thoughts outside his own head may allow him to know whether he was on the right track or setting the foundations of a disaster.

* * *

Otis looked up as Eric approached their regular place in the study room.

"Still disappointed in you," Eric said as he sat down.

Otis shrugged and said, "I can't help it if your expectations exceeded reality, Eric. I mean, did you really think I'd be comfortable enough to have sex with Maeve last night?"

"I never thought you'd be comfortable enough to even wank before you died, but five minutes after she kissed you, you were in the old toilet block jacking your beanstalk. Maeve Wiley clearly has magic powers."

"Keep your voice down, Eric," Otis said, looking around to be certain no-one had heard.

"Did you at least let her try to flog your bishop?" Eric said, lowering his tone.

"No," said Otis, hoping Eric would hurry up and ask the right question.

"So what did you do all night?" Eric asked as if on cue.

"Ate," said Otis, blandly, concealing his smile. "Mum cooked a very nice meal. We all talked. Really good conversation."

Eric rolled his eyes.

"We also danced," Otis continued. "Really nice dancing. Maeve was brilliant. I really enjoyed that."

"That's vertical sex. It's something," Eric said.

"And we kissed. Lots."

"Was there tongue?" Eric asked.

"Yes," Otis said, softly smiling.

Eric was surprised. "It's nice, isn't it?"

Otis nodded.

"So what else did you do?" Eric asked, almost indifferently.

"I touched Maeve's breast," Otis said, airily.

Eric's mouth dropped open and he was too stunned to speak for a moment before finally recovering his wits and saying, "You pervert."

Otis smiled at Eric, glad Maeve had given him permission to talk about it and hoped he didn't sound as if he was bragging. It wasn't about that.

Eric leant back and glared at Otis suspiciously. "Wait, was this an accidental brush against it while you were dancing or a full-on grab of a hunk of Maeve Wiley boob?" he asked.

Otis sighed and rolled his eyes and shook his head and wondered if Eric could actually hear himself as he spoke. "We'd finished dancing and we were lying on my bed and we were kissing and I… cupped it—" Otis held out his hand as if cupping an invisible breast, hoping no-one was looking. "—but I didn't even realise I'd done it until Maeve told me."

Eric heard the concern in Otis' voice. "Did she mind?" he asked, softly.

"No. She asked me to do it again."

Eric gave a small smile. "Did you?"

Otis nodded. "It felt good."

"Did your hand fall off?"

Otis rolled his eyes. "No."

"Did you get another boner?"

Otis hesitated then said, "Not then, but… afterward. After she left."

Eric noticed how Otis seemed less uncomfortable talking about it than just the day before and realised. "You had another wank, didn't you?"

Otis nodded. "Last night. And this morning."

Eric smiled. "No wonder you didn't realise you grabbed her boob. Your hand's numb. It's all that wanking."

"I just woke up with an erection and I was thinking about Maeve and last night and dancing and the feel of her breast and I just started-"

"'Wanking,'" Eric urged.

"- masturbating until-"

"You came," urged Eric.

"-I ejaculated."

Eric rolled his eyes. "You are going to have to start talking like a sixteen year old. But it explains why you were a cupcake this morning. I'm proud of you, Otis."

Otis smiled softly. "I felt really good this morning. I didn't feel uncomfortable afterward. Even last night was a bit uncomfortable. But this morning… I thought about Maeve being naked and kissing me and I just started stroking it."

"How long did you last?"

Otis shrugged. "About ten minutes." He looked at Eric with concern. "Is that normal?"

Eric shrugged. "I once spent an hour wanking to Denzel." He thought a moment then said, "Maybe that's why Maeve was a cupcake this morning."

Otis finally remembered the context of how Maeve reminded him of Aimee. "You think Maeve masturbated about me?" he asked, stunned by the thought.

Eric rolled his eyes in annoyance. "'Wank', Otis. Just say 'wank'."

Otis swallowed and said, "You think Maeve… wanked about me?"

"Did she _want_ to play groin buddies with you last night?"

"Yes."

Eric nodded to himself in satisfaction. "You gave her blue ovaries. No wonder she had to butter her muffin herself."

"I don't think it's called 'blue ovaries', Eric."

"So what is it called, Mr Teenage Sex Therapist Whisperer?"

Otis thought for a moment. "I don't know."

Eric's eyes lit up with inspiration. "'Blue clit'."

Otis shook his head and rolled his eyes then glanced down at the table and gathered his thoughts. "Maybe I've been overthinking things, Eric."

"Maybe?" Eric shook his head incredulously.

"Maybe I don't need to take it as slowly as I thought I might," Otis said.

Eric studied Otis for a few moments before speaking. "Are you sure, Otis? I mean, I want you to bang Maeve and all that but you do get stressed when you and your sex life collide. That's why it's so weird when you're so normal about other people's sex lives. Mostly normal," he amended.

"When Maeve tried to kiss me on the bridge, I freaked out. But when she kissed me at our wall—"

"You got a boner and freaked out."

Otis thrust his hand in Eric's direction - palm up - as if that proved his point. "About the boner. Not about the kiss."

Eric frowned, puzzled.

"I really want to be with Maeve, Eric. And when I compare that time with Lily—"

Eric frowned, confused. "Lily?"

Otis realised they hadn't had a chance to talk about it. He swallowed and his voice was small. "When we were… after I hurt you—" Otis began then stopped as the Headmaster's voice came over the tannoy: _Maeve Wiley to the Headmaster's office._

* * *

Maeve emerged from the Headmaster's office, thankful it hadn't been as bad as she feared. She turned the corner into the hallway and was both surprised and pleased to see Otis waiting for her, his face full of concern.

She smiled gently at him. "You waited for me."

Otis stepped toward her. "So what's happened?"

"It's not as bad as I thought. Suspension for a week and then I have to be a good girl for the rest of term."

"A week?" Otis repeated, dismayed.

"It's not expulsion."

Otis opened his arms and Maeve stepped into them.

"You shouldn't even have to face suspension," Otis said, grimly.

"Let it go, muppet," Maeve murmured.

She stepped back and nodded her head to indicate they should start walking.

"I've got to grab stuff from my locker. I'm not allowed to be on school grounds until after the suspension."

They started walking along the corridor and their hands reached out to meet without either of them consciously thinking about it.

"Are you going to be in the mood for our second date tonight?" Otis asked. "We can cancel, if you want."

Maeve thought for a moment. "Do you want to just come over to the caravan and we can order pizza? I'll invite you in this time."

Otis looked at her and smiled. "That sounds perfect."

Maeve glanced up at him and the tone in his voice and the look in his eyes suggested to her that there might be more than just hugging and kissing and touching her breasts that night and she wondered what the best term for the female equivalent of a boner was.

* * *

Aimee sat at the breakfast table in Maeve's caravan and looked questioningly at the girl sitting opposite her.

"So I've got to make sure that I _don't_ keep the queen?" Aimee asked.

"That's right," said Maeve.

"Okay," said Aimee, nodding. "Shouldn't be hard."

Maeve refrained from pointing out she had won twelve packs of cigarettes off Aimee so far and glanced at the clock.

Aimee noticed. "So what time is he getting here?"

"About an hour. Said he was going home to shower first." Maeve began dealing out the cards. "I'll have mine in a bit."

"Do you want me to be gone before he gets here?"

Maeve shrugged. "It's up to you. You can stay for pizza, if you like, but…" Maeve smiled to herself. "I'll need you to leave soon after. Sorry."

Aimee noted Maeve's tone and glanced up from her cards. "You think you're going to do it tonight?"

"I don't know if we'll actually have sex but… I think we'll definitely get to second base." Maeve drifted off into thoughts of Otis touching her down there.

Aimee was puzzled. "I thought you said he touched your boob last night."

Maeve returned to reality, frowning. "Boobs is second base?"

Aimee nodded. "Kissing is first, especially if you're Frenching. Boobs is second, either over or under your top and bajingos and maypoles are third. Oh, and full on shagging is a home run."

"How do you know all this?" Maeve asked.

"Do you remember Biff? That American exchange student a couple of years ago? He told me."

Maeve smirked. "Did Biff get a home run?"

Aimee smiled at the memories. "He won the World Series."

"What the fuck _is_ the World Series?"

Aimee shrugged and held out her cards for Maeve to choose. "Dunno. Just something to do with baseball and there's lots of home runs."

Maeve selected a card from Aimee and compared it to the other cards in her hand. "You call it a bajingo?" she asked, grimacing slightly.

Aimee nodded. "Bajingo. Fanny. Minky. Muff. Vag. Used to call it me Minnie when I was a kid."

Maeve scrunched her face in amusement.

"What do you call yours?" Aimee asked.

Maeve shrugged. "Pussy. Fanny. Minge. Vag. I used to ironically call it my cock-hole but one guy was a real dick with that one so I don't use it anymore."

Aimee grimaced. "Why are guys like that?"

"Too many of them don't just _have_ dicks," Maeve said, holding out her cards for Aimee.

Aimee selected a card from Maeve and studied her own cards.

"So what does Steve call it?" Maeve asked.

Aimee smiled. "Little Aimee. And I call him Big Steve."

Maeve grimaced and supressed a shudder then smiled at a thought. "I was thinking of telling Otis I call it my cookie because I've called him my cookie monster and what does the cookie monster eat?"

* * *

Maeve opened the door to her caravan and looked at Otis as he stood at the foot of the stairs, staring at her with a glittering smile.

He noticed she had changed from this morning's outfit to what looked to be the same white top she had worn that day in the pool but he wasn't certain if it was the same black bra visible beneath it. The skirt seemed to be the same one she wore on their first day of the clinic unless she had another skirt of the same colour with fraying threads hanging down. He had never caught a glimpse of her pants but in his dream they were pink so he imagined they were pink beneath her skirt.

He wondered if his thoughts fell on the right side of desiring her and not on the side of objectifying her.

"_Entrez-vous_?" Maeve asked and stepped back.

Otis walked up the steps into her caravan, hoping his face hadn't registered what he had been thinking about.

When he stepped over the threshold and stood silhouetted in the doorway, Maeve bit her lip and silently watched him as he looked around, not noticing Aimee sitting at the breakfast table just out of his vision.

He smiled as he noticed where she had placed the trophy.

"It's bigger on the inside than on the outside," he said.

Maeve snorted. "Yeah, my own personal TARDIS. Wish it could take me somewhen else."

Otis looked softly into her eyes. "It's nice, Maeve," he murmured.

"I'll give you the tour later," she promised.

He nodded. "Have you ordered?"

"Yeah. They'll be here in about twenty minutes."

"Oh," said Otis, remembering. "I've spoken to your teachers, got homework you can do during your suspension and I'll check with them every day in case new things come up."

"Thanks, muppet," said Maeve, softly, not wanting to tell him that Aimee had also offered to do the same things.

Otis shrugged. "You'd do the same for me."

"No, I wouldn't," she smirked.

Otis smiled. "I get it. You're mean."

"Mean as mean can be."

Otis put his bag down on the couch then Maeve put her arms around him and reached up to kiss him and this time there were tongues.

Maeve sighed and murmured, "Still so comfortable."

Otis smiled and stepped back and turned and recoiled as he finally noticed Aimee sitting at the breakfast table, smiling broadly at him.

"Aimee," he said.

Aimee waggled her fingers at him then glanced at Maeve. "You're right. He does look like he's a good kisser. Sure I can't test drive him?"

Maeve smiled at Otis' reaction. "Lips off, Aimee. Besides, he's not interested. Are you, muppet?"

Otis glanced at Aimee then looked at Maeve, eyes wide. "I can't win this one, can I?"

Maeve pursed her lips in a smile and shook her head. "Nope."

"Jeez, Maeve," Otis said, shaking his head, then noticed the cards on the table. "What are you playing?" he asked, relieved he'd found an escape hatch.

"Scabby Queen," said Aimee. "I think I'm finally getting the hang of it."

"Oh, great," said Otis as he moved to sit opposite where he imagined Maeve would have been sitting. "What are the stakes?"

Maeve smirked and sat opposite him. "Loser buys the other two a pack of cigarettes each."

"I don't smoke," said Otis.

Maeve shrugged. "Then I'll just have to bum them off you."

"That means you can't lose," protested Otis.

"House rules, muppet," said Maeve as she began dealing the cards. "Unless you want to play Strip Queen."

Maeve noticed Otis startle and tried to keep her smirk hidden.

"Oh, great," said Aimee, brightly. "I can call Steve and we can make it a foursome."

Otis stared open-mouthed at Aimee and turned redder than anybody Maeve had ever seen.

"You are so easy, muppet," said Maeve.

"He really does look cute when's he's flustered," said Aimee.

* * *

**Author's Notes: Otis may not be as ready for the next step(s) as he thought he might be.**

**I hadn't originally intended to end this chapter here but I think the next bit of the night deserves a chapter of its own. Sorry if it doesn't feel quite complete.**

**The next chapter will delve deeper into sexual talk between Maeve and Otis so if you think I'm going astray, please let me know.**

**Not sure how long it will take to complete – there needs to be a balance between Otis' desires and his issues – and that's the tightrope I'm walking since I don't want to screw it up completely and have you feel like you've wasted your time.**

**Thank you again for your kind comments and kudos and for helping this story reach 2000 hits.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Notes: Thanks again for continuing to read and being kind enough to comment. I really appreciate it.**

**This chapter either works or it doesn't.**

* * *

**Chapter 12**

Otis sat alone at the table in Maeve's caravan and emerged from a reverie as he realised he could no longer hear the soft murmur of Maeve and Aimee's voices outside the window and understood that meant Aimee must be on her way home via dropping the empty pizza boxes off in the bins and Maeve would be coming back inside.

As he heard her skip up the stairs, he looked toward the door and watched her enter and spin around, skirt swaying slightly and his heart skipped several metaphorical beats.

"Aimee says she'll come and see you on Monday to get her cigarettes," she said as she closed the door. "I'll write down her brand so you don't forget."

"Was that the first time she won?" Otis asked.

"Uh-huh," Maeve said, nodding.

Otis grimaced. "Seems I'm bad luck for you."

"The two people who smoke both get cigarettes this time. You're mega-brilliant-lucky."

"Then you two should have been nicer to me," Otis said, mock-offended.

Maeve pouted in mock-commiseration as she sat at the table opposite him. "Awww, poor muppet. I'm such a mean, mean girl, aren't I?"

"Yes, you are," he pouted in mock-agreement.

"Now that Aimee's gone, _do_ you want to play a game of Strip Queen?" she asked, eyes glittering.

Otis' pursed his lips and looked at her defiantly. "What would you do if I said 'yes'?"

"I'd say, 'Start dealing'," Maeve replied.

"Of course you would."

She grinned at him, eyes glittering. "You did say you wanted me pushing you a little."

"I know," he said. "Haven't changed my mind."

Maeve smiled tenderly at him. "Are you sure I'm not pushing too much, Otis?" she asked. "I seem to be spending half my time freaking you out."

Otis gazed at her gathering his thoughts. "It's normalising things for me, Maeve. Like I said, your whole attitude is the same as when you've teased me in the past but you're now teasing me about… boyfriend girlfriend stuff. I think I need that."

Maeve leant back and returned his gaze.

"I'm not normal when it comes to sex, Maeve," Otis said quietly.

"I wish you wouldn't keep saying that, Otis," Maeve said quietly. "You're inexperienced. That's all."

"It's more than that, Maeve." Otis kept his eyes on her and Maeve could see he was wondering how much he felt comfortable talking about.

"You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to, Otis," Maeve said quietly. "But remember those four walls of trust you spoke about? I liked the way you phrased that. That's the way you've been for me. When I've been hanging out with you these last few months I've felt safe inside those four walls."

"But you weren't," Otis said, grimly. "I had been lying to you. I betrayed you."

Maeve shook her head. "You screwed up. You didn't do it deliberately."

"I still hurt you."

"It hurt because I thought you'd done it deliberately. That you and Jackson got together and were all, 'Hey, Otis, help me get together with Maeve and here's some money for your time', 'Sure thing, Jackson, let me just go off and find out what she likes and report back to you and we can plan our line of attack', 'Good show, Otis, old buddy! She'll never know what hit her.'"

Otis smiled softly at her impersonations of himself and Jackson and murmured, "I still let you down."

"If you hadn't shown up yesterday morning, you would have let me down. But you did. You explained. You tried to save things between us. I thought my safe place had been ripped away from me and I had nothing left but you've shown me that wasn't true. It's behind me, Otis. It's like it never happened."

Otis nodded and Maeve could see him trying to accept her words.

"I just hope I can be a safe place for you," she continued. "That you can come to feel that I'm those four walls of trust for you."

Otis smiled gently at her. "I do trust you, Maeve, but…"

Maeve watched the emotions swirling across his face as his internal debate continued then she spoke in a brighter tone. "You've told me you gave a chinchilla a blowjob. Nothing you say now could be worse than that."

Otis threw back his head, protesting with a laugh, "I said I told Olivia I'd seen chinchilla's giving themselves blowjobs."

Maeve shrugged. "I must have misunderstood."

Otis looked at her and Maeve could see him resolve to try to speak. "I've been thinking since last night…" he began and then drifted back into his thoughts.

Maeve studied him then said, "I think I've got something stuck in my teeth. I'm just going to go brush them then we can sit on the couch. Maybe you'll feel more comfortable talking over there."

"Do you have a spare toothbrush?" Otis asked.

"You can use mine," she said, shaking her head as she stood up.

Otis flinched.

Maeve rolled her eyes. "We've been sharing tongues since yesterday morning. If you were going to give me your cooties, I've already got them."

Otis pondered for a moment then nodded and rose from the table to stand beside Maeve.

"So now do I get the grand tour?" he asked.

"Oh, yeah. The grand tour," Maeve said and pointed to each area of the room in turn. "Loungeroom, dining room, kitchen."

Otis chuckled softly.

Maeve took his hand and led him through the doorway into the other half of the caravan. "Bathroom to the right. Lav's in the bathroom. And this…" she released Otis' hand and turned to face him, looking directly into his eyes. "This is the bedroom," she said softly.

Otis looked into her bedroom, eyes roaming the room, noticing a bra and a pair of her pants sitting on top of a small pile of clothes on the bed. Their colours matched and he realised that of course she would be wearing black pants under her skirt.

Maeve noticed his gaze and pressed her lips together in a smirk, glad she hadn't tried to pretend she was a tidier person than she actually was.

Otis realised he had been staring and tried to cover for himself by roaming his eyes over the pieces of paper stuck to the wall but when he turned back to see Maeve smiling softly at him he knew he had failed.

"I have girl parts, Otis," Maeve said, gently amused. "I wear girl things. Do you want to see?" She mimed hiking her skirt.

"Sorry," said Otis, sheepishly.

"Do you think I actually mind?" she asked softly. "I like you …" She searched for the way to say it and smiled to herself as she realised she could opt for a _faux_ Otis. "… letting me see that you do desire me sexually."

Otis swallowed and spoke very softly, "I do, Maeve."

"If you want," she began softly, "we can forget the couch and lie on the bed. We can just talk or…" She pushed a little. "… if you want to do anything else we could do that, too."

Maeve watched the conflict shimmer behind his eyes and she could see that he wanted to push beyond their brief step onto second base but he wasn't quite ready.

"Maybe later?" he said.

"Okay," she said gently, nodding. "No pressure."

* * *

Maeve and Otis sat in the corner of her couch facing each other as best they could as music played softly in the background. Maeve leant over and kissed him and when it was over she moved back and gazed at him tenderly, sensing there was a lot he wanted to say to her but uncertainty about how to start.

"You know how I said you needed an Otis," Maeve asked softly.

Otis nodded.

"I'm not as cluey as you when it comes to some things," she continued, "but maybe you can think of me as a sounding board and you can be an Otis for yourself."

Otis wasn't quite sure what she meant.

"Let's pretend I'm you," Maeve said. "I'm the sex clinic guru. Now you don't have to say things out loud but if you came to me for sex advice, what would you say to me?"

Otis smiled softly at her and after a moment forced himself to speak. "I'd say I told my girlfriend I needed to take things slowly but now I think maybe I was wrong."

"In what way?" Maeve asked.

Otis took a deep breath and swallowed and Maeve could see he still wasn't quite ready.

"This music sounds a little calm for you," he said, opting for safe ground for the moment.

"Like you told Jackson, I like a lot of music," Maeve said.

Otis listened to the lyrics for a few moments then turned to Maeve. "Are you trying to send me a message?"

"Just trying to set a mood."

"You want to dance again?" he asked.

"We can if you want but we can't turn the music up tonight. Jonathan doesn't like loud noise and I'm trying to stay under Cynthia's radar."

"Jonathan?"

"Cynthia's cat. In the red and white hat."

Otis nodded, remembering.

"I really loved dancing with you last night, muppet," Maeve murmured.

"I never knew it could be so much fun. I mean, I enjoyed dancing with Ola but you… You were glorious, Maeve."

Maeve sighed. "I wish I hadn't been with Jackson. I wish we'd gone to the dance together."

Otis smirked at her. "I thought you agreed they were imported American traditions giving an unrealistic portrayal of romantic love."

She smiled softly. "I think I wanted the unrealistic portrayal of romantic love. For one night. With you."

Otis stared at her with fond amusement. "I _am_ making you soft, aren't I?"

"You're allowing me to relax, Otis."

He gazed softly at her then shook his head. "You _were_ with Jackson. I could never have asked you."

Maeve roamed her eyes over her face. "If I wasn't with Jackson, would you have asked me?"

Otis pondered for a few moments. "I don't know. Maybe. So we could mock people."

"Is that the only reason?"

"It's the reason I would have told you."

"Because you couldn't tell me you loved me," Maeve said sadly.

Otis nodded sadly.

Maeve was silent for a few moments and then said wistfully. "I wish you'd kissed me on the bridge. I would never have gone back to Jackson if you had kissed me."

Otis stared at Maeve for a long time and Maeve could see waves of regret wash through him.

He turned away for a moment and gathered his thoughts then turned back to her. "That's the reason I tried to lose my virginity with Lily," he confessed. "I thought if I could get it out of the way then if I ever had another chance with you then I wouldn't freak out."

Maeve's eyes wandered across his. "How far did you get with Lily?" she eventually asked.

Otis held her gaze for a moment then swallowed and said, "Lily put my hands on her breasts and told me to squeeze her nipples and then she asked if she could touch my penis."

"Did you let her?"

Otis nodded. "That's when I had the panic attack and I told her to get my mum and the next thing I know I'm waking up with the three of them staring down at me."

"That must have been really embarrassing," Maeve murmured sympathetically.

Otis looked away as the memory washed through him. "That's why I'm glad Lily didn't tell anyone. That's why I gave her a freebie."

After a moment, Maeve said, "I would have preferred it if she _was_ your bit on the side. That way you would have been having fun."

Otis smiled softly. "That's what I've been thinking about since last night. Lily. The bridge. You tried to kiss me on the bridge and I freaked out. Lily tried to kiss me and I'm all—" Otis mimed dodging kisses from Lily.

Maeve smiled sadly.

Otis turned to look into her eyes. "But when you kissed me yesterday morning, I didn't freak out."

"You said you kind of had a panic attack," Maeve said softly.

Otis flinched slightly and looked away and said quietly, "Not about the kiss."

Maeve knew he was still not quite ready to admit to it, whether he suspected she had felt it pressing against herself or not.

"When Lily put my hands on her breasts, I was all—" He held his hands out as if awkwardly squeezing breasts.

Maeve smiled gently.

"But when you asked me to touch your breast last night… it felt good, Maeve," he said, turning back to her.

Maeve was silent, simply watching him, hoping the gentle smile on her lips was letting him know everything he was saying was okay with her.

"Maybe you were right, Maeve. It _is_ different with someone I'm in love with and want to be with. I know I'm not always comfortable kissing you but a lot of the time I have been and I haven't freaked out. Touching Lily's breast was—" he mimed a shudder. "Touching your breast the first time horrified me because I hadn't asked your consent. But when you asked me to touch it the second time…"

"You want to touch them again?" Maeve asked quietly.

Otis swallowed and said quietly, "If you'd let me."

Maeve gave him a loving smile and nodded.

"Maybe we don't have to take it as slowly as I thought," he continued. "Maybe I just need to do the things boyfriends and girlfriends do and then it will become easier."

"Do you want to do those things? Not because I want you to do them, not just because you want to lose your virginity but because you _want_ to do them? With me?"

"Only if you want to, Maeve. We can just take it slowly still if you want."

Maeve waited a moment and then said softly, "Tell me what gave you a panic attack first."

Otis looked at her and she could see he was now certain she knew but Maeve could see he still couldn't bring himself to say it.

"I know what you're going to say," Maeve said gently. "But I think you need to actually say it."

Otis nodded and Maeve watched as he steeled himself to force the words out. "After you kissed me I had an erection," he said and it seemed as if a huge metaphorical weight dropped from his shoulders.

Maeve smiled fondly, nodding. "I'm not numb down there. I did feel it."

"Eric said you probably did," he murmured. "I think it's why I haven't always been comfortable when we've been kissing. I've been trying to stop myself getting another erection. It's only when I haven't been thinking about whether I got an erection that I've felt comfortable."

Maeve leaned over and kissed him tenderly. "There's nothing wrong with getting a boner, muppet. I had my own reaction after our kiss."

"Yeah, but it's not so obvious with you."

"World's unfair, muppet," she said with a gentle smile. "Do you think I actually minded? I told you I was in love with you and Bingo! You were ready for action."

Otis smiled softly. "I didn't think of it that way."

"I'm just sorry I told you at school. I knew giving you a hard-on was a possibility but I was just so wanting to tell you I loved you too that I wasn't thinking about it at that moment."

Otis sighed. "Maybe it was a good thing." He hesitated then Maeve could see him gather his determination to continue. "Forced me to do something I'd been unable to do."

Maeve missed the full meaning as she smiled at his admission. "It must have been embarrassing to alphabetize your music collection at school."

Otis frowned in puzzlement then realised. "That wasn't a euphemism, Maeve."

Maeve laughed in surprise. "You mean you really did alphabetize your music collection? I thought you had a wank."

Otis looked directly at her. "I did," he said, holding her gaze despite his discomfort. "I tried the other first but it didn't work."

"Has it ever worked?" she asked quietly.

"Once."

"When?"

Otis took a moment before speaking. "After we were mucking around in the pool."

Maeve smiled knowingly. "Of course."

"You knew about that one?" he asked, surprised.

Maeve bit her lip. "I realised yesterday morning. That's why I giggled. Not at you getting a boner," she clarified quickly. "At me, for being too stupid to realise at the time."

Otis smiled ruefully. "You touched my eyebrows and Bingo."

"Why didn't you just flog your bishop?"

Otis dropped his gaze. "I have a… problematic relationship with masturbation."

Maeve studied his embarrassment fondly. "Don't be embarrassed, muppet. There's nothing wrong with wanking. I polished my pearl about you last night when I got home. That's why I took so long to text you. I was so horny I just couldn't wait."

"Eric said I probably gave you 'blue ovaries'," Otis said wryly.

Maeve thought for a moment. "'Blue clit'."

"He said that too."

Maeve snuggled against him. "I know you're really uncomfortable talking like this, Otis, but maybe it's what you need to do. I'm not embarrassed by it or anything. I think it's good."

Otis took a deep breath. "I know erections are normal. I know masturbation is normal. That's what my head says. That's what I'd tell our clients. But I've never felt it _here_." His hand touched his heart. "I've…" He looked as far away from Maeve as possible and swallowed.

"Is there something else you want to say, Otis?" Maeve asked quietly.

Otis took a deep breath and forced himself to speak. "Yesterday was the first time I masturbated."

Maeve was surprised. "Really? You'd never wrestled your dragon even though you were into me for months?"

"I tried… but I never liked how it felt. It always felt like I was objectifying you."

"I've been objectifying you ever since the night on the bridge," said Maeve.

Otis looked directly at her and Maeve could see how much that thought pleased him and she smiled.

"Is it cheating that I buttered my muffin and thought of you while I was still with Jackson?" she asked.

Otis thought for a moment. "I hate ethical dilemmas."

"Me, too," she said, then was silent for long moments. "I never started out thinking about you. I was just wanking. But you would always appear. What would happen if we kissed on the bridge. If we kissed in the pool."

"In the pool?" Otis asked, surprised.

"If you hadn't freaked out about getting a boner I think I would have kissed you that day in the pool."

Otis stared at her in soft amazement.

Maeve smiled gently. "I was falling for you back then. I just didn't realise it until I really wanted to kiss you on the bridge."

Otis was silent for a moment longer then asked, "What would you have done if you had realised I had an erection in the pool?"

Maeve smiled. "I hope I would have offered to help you to take care of it. That's one of things I thought about when I was wanking. That I kissed you and you got a boner and we fucked for the first time right there in the pool."

"I think I would have panicked and drowned if you had noticed," Otis finally said.

"I would have saved you," she said softly then held his gaze for long moments before continuing. "So... Rewriting Lily… We've kissed. You've touched my boob."

She could see Otis knew where she was heading.

"Do you want me to touch your penis?" she asked quietly.

Otis nodded. "But only if you want to," he said quietly. "I don't want to pressure you, Maeve. Make you feel obliged."

"I want to," she whispered.

Otis stared at her for a long moment then swallowed. "May I touch your vagina too?" he asked quietly.

Maeve stood and held out her hand. Otis took it carefully and stood and stared into her eyes, smiling softly in anticipation.

"Let's go into the bedroom," began Maeve softly, "and we can work our way up to both those things." She bit her lip. "And more if you want."

* * *

**Author's Notes: I hadn't planned on ending this chapter at this point either but I think it will work out better this way.**

**Hope this has worked and I haven't gone splat.**


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's Notes: This chapter is mostly seen from Maeve's point of view but we do see Otis' POV eventually.**

**Warning: Lots and lots of fairly explicit foreplay.**

**I still don't know whether I've slipped off that tightrope but it's probably too late to turn back now.**

* * *

**Chapter 13**

Maeve lay barefoot on her bed on her side and watched Otis as he paced back and forth talking into his phone.

"Yes, mum. I know. Thanks. Alright, mum, I know. I'll see you in the morning," he said, sounding slightly frustrated.

He hung up the phone and turned to Maeve, sighing.

"She's okay with you staying?" Maeve asked.

"Of course. That was never going to be an issue."

"What did she say that made you freak?"

"She wanted to be sure we were using condoms in the initial phase of our relationship."

Maeve smiled. "There's some in the drawer if we need them."

"I'm not sure I could go that far tonight, Maeve," Otis said quietly.

"I know," Maeve said. "But they're there if we need them."

Maeve patted the bed beside herself.

"Now take your feet off and get on the bed, muppet," she said with a smile.

Otis smiled and sat on the edge of the bed and started taking his shoes off.

Maeve studied his posture and asked quietly, "Are you nervous?"

"A little," Otis said after a pause.

"It's okay to be nervous," she said softly.

Otis nodded.

"We don't have to do anything if you're having second thoughts," Maeve said gently. "We can just kiss. Cuddle. I don't mind."

Otis finished removing his shoes and socks and shoved them under the bed then turned to her.

"If that's what you want, Maeve," he said then lay back on the bed beside her, turning to face her. "I don't want you to feel obliged."

Maeve smiled gently at him. "I told you yesterday, muppet, I want to fuck your brains out but if you're only doing this because _I_ want it, don't."

"I do want to try but I don't want you to think that I'm just reducing you to…" he waved his hand slightly.

"I don't, Otis, unless you think I'm reducing you to that," she nodded in the direction of his penis then snorted a chuckle and said, "Christ, we're like those fucking squirrels."

Otis frowned, puzzled.

"You know," Maeve said then adopted a very polite tone. "'After you.' 'No, after you.' 'No, I insist. After you.'"

Otis nodded in recognition, smiling. "Chip 'n' Dale."

"They're the ones," Maeve said brightly.

"They're actually chipmunks."

"Whatever," Maeve shrugged.

Otis smiled and leaned forward and Maeve met him for a tender kiss.

"Let's just start with this, Otis," she said quietly. "And this time you don't have to try to stop yourself getting a boner, okay?"

Otis nodded, smiling ruefully.

"Just one thing…" Maeve began.

"What?" Otis asked.

"You're going to have to remember to use your safe word if you need to."

Otis hesitated then nodded slowly.

"I mean it, Otis. You're nervous and that's okay. I was nervous my first time with a guy. But if you're going to have a panic attack because something is a bit too much, you need to let me know so I can stop because I may not recognise it."

"I'll remember it," Otis promised.

"Remember to use it," Maeve urged softly.

"If it's too much, I'll use it, Maeve," Otis said.

"Good," Maeve said softly, then leant forward and kissed him before rolling onto her back and smiling up at him. "Now come on, let's start revving ourselves up."

Otis smiled and shuffled closer to Maeve and bent his head down and kissed her and he felt the same familiar tingle as the first time on their bench when her tongue flicked his.

* * *

Maeve took a soft breath as their latest kiss ended then stared softly into Otis' eyes. His kisses were so much better than any other guy she had ever kissed and if she thought she had been lubed up when they sitting on the couch – and she was - that was nothing compared to the way she was now feeling.

She felt a moment's disappointment that she couldn't just ask him to slip inside her but as she looked into his clear blue loving eyes and saw none of the nervousness she had noticed while he was taking off his shoes and socks, she decided his permission to push a little still applied.

"So… you ready to try for second base?" she breathed.

Otis seemed a little surprised as he murmured, "Are you sure? So soon?"

"Yeah," Maeve murmured, nodding, then continued watching his eyes as he swallowed and committed to taking the next step. She saw movement of his shoulder out of the corner of her eye and let her breath hitch in anticipation of the touch of his hands on her breast.

She was only a little surprised when she felt his fingers gently touch her inner thigh and slowly move upwards.

"Um," she began softly, "it's okay if you want to go for my pussy now but I meant my boobs, Otis."

Otis frowned, his fingers stopping their movement but still resting gently on her thigh.

"I thought you said 'second base'?" he asked.

"Isn't that boobs?" Maeve asked.

"I thought it was genitalia," Otis said, raising his hand from her thigh and leaning back slightly. "Dad said breasts were first base, genitalia were second base, oral sex was third base and full intercourse was a home run."

"See that's what I thought," Maeve said earnestly, "but Aimee said kissing was first base, boobs were second, cocks and pussies were third and fucking was a home run. And she got that from an American."

"So we can go with that definition?"

Maeve pressed her lips together and shook her head and said, "This baseball thing is fucking stupid. We're not American. Boobs, Otis. You can touch my boobs if you want to."

Otis smiled at her as he leant over to kiss her again. "We're lucky people didn't make up a cricket metaphor. Can you imagine what a silly mid-off would be?"

Maeve smirked. "Probably something anatomically impossible."

Otis kissed her again then stared into her eyes as he slowly, carefully placed his hand on her right breast and gently squeezed.

Maeve drew in a slow pleased breath and raised her lips to his.

"Do you mind if I take my bra off?" she asked.

Otis' breath hitched and he nodded. "Yes."

Maeve frowned at him in surprise and he realised.

"I meant no. I meant…"

Maeve smirked at him and raised her eyebrows and kept silent.

Otis rolled his eyes at himself then gazed at her. "Would you mind taking your bra off, Maeve?"

"Of course not," Maeve smiled.

As Otis rolled onto his back and watched her, she sat up and reached behind herself and undid the clasp to her bra then engaged in a few minor contortions before dragging it out the sleeve of her top closest to Otis.

She smiled at Otis and dropped it on his chest then waited as he appreciated the curves of her breasts visible beneath the transparency of her top.

"You like?" she asked.

"You're beautiful, Maeve," said Otis, his voice raw. "I'm sorry if that's objectification."

Maeve smiled and moved to lean over him. "You're handsome and you're cute and you have incredibly gorgeous blue eyes, Otis, and if the way it felt pressing against me yesterday is any indication, you have a really decent-sized cock to boot."

Otis flinched slightly at her bluntness.

Maeve smiled softly at him. "There. _My_ objectification of you," she said as she bent her head down to kiss him, her breasts pressing against his arm.

"You didn't like me calling it your cock?" she asked when the kiss ended and she brushed her bra off his chest and onto the floor.

"It's a common term," Otis said with a shrug.

"Would you have preferred I used 'decent-sized penis' instead?" she asked, smirking fondly.

"Whatever term you like, Maeve."

"It _is_ a decent-size cock, Otis, if that's one of the things you've been worried about."

"No, I've… I've studied the surveys," he said sheepishly.

"And you've measured it," she said blandly.

"Do you always talk this way in these situations, Maeve?"

"No," she said gently. "But you can still be so clinical, Otis. You need to talk like a sixteen-year-old."

"I've been getting better in the clinic ever since that first session with Olivia."

"I know, but outside the clinic you still talk breasts, genitalia, oral sex, intercourse."

"That's valid terminology."

"But it's a way of distancing yourself from sex, isn't it?"

Maeve saw she had hit the target.

"Maybe it would help you feel more comfortable if you weren't so clinical," she said softly.

Otis studied her for a moment then smirked. "You just want me to talk dirty, don't you? You like dirty talk."

"I can't claim there aren't benefits I get from you talking like a sixteen-year-old," she said, eyes glittering.

Otis leaned forward and tenderly kissed her.

"Boobs, cock, pussy, sucking me off, licking you out, fucking," he said defiantly.

Maeve smiled. "Good boy, but you forgot fingering and handjobs and coming," she said and kissed him.

"Thank you," Otis said after a moment and Maeve thought there was a raw edge to his voice.

"For what?"

"For being patient with me."

Maeve sighed fondly. "I love you, Otis. I want to feel you inside me. I'm just doing whatever I can to help you be more comfortable with that idea."

Maeve watched Otis swallow and knew the idea of him being inside her was both appealing and discomforting.

"I just hope I'm not making things worse," she said softly.

"It's helping," he said equally as softly.

"You seem nervous again," she said uncertainly.

"No," said Otis after a moment.

"Prove it," she said softly.

She rolled onto her back and watched him as he moved to lean over her, glancing at her breasts through her top then looking into her eyes.

Maeve smiled softly at him. "Just imagine if I hadn't worn a bra in the pool that day," she said quietly.

He swallowed then raised his hand to gently rest it on her breast and she drew in a soft breath as he gently squeezed and brought his mouth down to kiss her.

* * *

Maeve closed her eyes and sighed as Otis gently massaged her breast and tweaked her nipple through the fabric of her thin top. She had imagined this moment many times, either after imagining kissing him on the bridge or imagining kissing him in the pool, but neither scenario had prepared her for the actual feel of his hand on her.

He was so much more tender than any of the handful of guys who had previously been in this position with her and so much more understanding of the ways of touching her and caressing her that felt good to her. He wasn't just grabbing a huge chunk of Maeve Wiley boob and squeezing and calling that foreplay.

And this was only one boob and not even against her bare flesh, though her top was thin enough that there might not be that much difference.

She let out another deep sigh as she imagined his fingers touching her clit and slipping inside her and she knew that however good she imagined his touch would have been sliding his hand under her dress on the bridge or down her shorts in the pool, the reality would be so much more intense – whenever it occurred.

She hoped it would occur tonight.

When she no longer felt his hand on her breast, Maeve opened her eyes and looked up at him as he stared down at her then his fingers were on the bare skin at her waist where her top had ridden up.

"Lift up," he murmured.

Maeve raised herself slightly and his fingers slowly moved upward, her top being dragged as they went until finally her breast was exposed completely to his view.

He glanced at it then began gently running his fingers around her nipple again.

"Lefty's feeling neglected," she murmured.

"I've been playing with your left breast," he said.

"That's righty," Maeve said with a smile.

"Are you directionally challenged, Maeve?" Otis asked, puzzled.

"I was looking in the mirror when I first called them that and I got sick of all the 'do you mean your left or my left' thing."

Maeve watched him smile and then his hand moved her top to uncover her other breast.

"I was thinking of getting them tattooed with their names," she continued.

"Where would you put them?" Otis asked.

"Underboob."

Otis gently stroked the underside of her breast. "You mean here?"

"Mm-mm," she nodded.

Otis moved his fingers gently across her breast and then gently squeezed her nipple and studied her reaction.

Maeve hissed in a gentle breath and nodded at him.

Otis smiled gently at her and turned his gaze back to her neglected breast, gently wet his lips then bent over and tenderly kissed her nipple before flicking it with his tongue.

Maeve drew in another quick breath then, as Otis planted brief tender kisses all across the skin of her breast, murmured, "Do that again."

Otis smiled then leant over her other breast and planted a kiss on her other nipple before flicking it with his tongue.

* * *

Maeve thought calling Otis a sexual savant near the beginning of the clinic was simply in regard to his understanding of sex and relationships and people but as he continued gently massaging and kissing her breasts and tweaking and kissing her nipples she realised his understanding went deeper than the mere theoretical.

She was more aroused at this point than she had ever been - even at the next stage - with any of the other guys she had fucked – even Jackson, who really was properly good at it – and she wondered if those women who had told her about titplay giving them orgasms had not been exaggerating as she believed they had been. She didn't think her nipples had ever been as sensitive as they were tonight under Otis' tender teasing loving care.

The surprising thing was she had not had to tell him anything. Not how hard to squeeze nor how much to tweak nor which movements of his tongue on and around her nipples brought the greatest sense of pleasure tingling through her. Nor – after that first time - when to switch his teasing from one breast to the other nor when to take a break and lift his mouth to hers and use his tongue to gently tease her own.

Nor – and this was new tonight – when to, briefly, rarely and oh-so-gently, bite her lip and – of course, this was also new tonight – briefly, rarely and oh-so-gently let his teeth capture her nipples between them.

Nor when to place his lips over her nipples and suck gently with just the exact amount of force to feel better than just good but not too hard that he was hurting her.

Even Jackson – who really was properly good at it – had to be told a few things.

Aimee was wrong. Otis was already the Pleasure Champion.

As Otis' tongue slowly circled lefty's nipple yet again, Maeve imagined that tongue lingering over her little labs and flicking her clit and only realised that her hand had moved between her legs when her fingers felt the dampness of her pussy soaking her pants.

She slowly moved her hand away from her legs and opened her eyes to see Otis watching her reactions to the movements of his tongue and she smiled gently at him.

"You're really revving me up, Otis," she murmured.

Otis gave her a smile and then gently sucked on her nipple, watching as she hitched a breath.

"I'm glad I'm doing it right," he said.

"Is that why you've been nervous? That you wouldn't do things right?"

Otis shrugged.

"So far you've been great, Pleasure Champion."

Otis smiled gently at Maeve then bent his head again so his mouth and tongue could play gently with her other nipple.

Maeve breathed in sharply then whispered, "Muppet?"

Otis looked at her questioningly.

"Would you touch my pussy?"

Otis startled slightly and Maeve realised it was too much.

"I'm sorry. It's okay," she said quickly. "We can still just do this. This is really nice. More than nice."

Otis looked away from her and Maeve could see him reflect for a moment then he turned back to her.

"I haven't said my safe word, Maeve," he said softly.

"I don't want things to be too much for you, Otis," she said softly.

Otis gazed fondly at her then shifted position and Maeve almost gasped as she felt his erection pressing against her leg.

He smiled gently at her reaction. "I didn't try to stop it happening this time."

Maeve gently touched his cheek. "I can tell."

"I haven't freaked out about it either. I've just… let it exist."

"Do you want me to touch it?" Maeve asked.

"Not yet," Otis said then continued. "Do you want me to touch your va—" he stopped and began again. "Do you want me to touch your pussy, Maeve?"

"I don't want you to think you have to, Otis. I can…"

She hesitated then watched a fond smirk rise on Otis' lips.

"I can always handle it myself," she said almost shyly. "I might have to bring out Eustace or Bettina, though."

Otis frowned in puzzlement.

"They're in the bottom drawer," Maeve almost whispered.

Otis drew in a soft breath and Maeve knew the idea of watching her relieving herself with either her vibrator or her dildo or both was turning him on even more than he already demonstrably was.

She bit her lip. "I can bring them out if you want. I don't mind you watching. I… like the idea," she said quietly.

Otis shook his head. "Not tonight," he said then moved his lips toward hers for a very tender then very passionate kiss.

"Do you want me to touch your pussy, Maeve," he asked, gently but firmly.

She drew in a long breath. "Please," Maeve whispered.

* * *

Maeve closed her eyes and felt her chest rising and falling in time with the deep breaths she was taking as the feeling between her legs intensified in anticipation of Otis' fingers making their presence known down there.

When she felt Otis' fingers touch her inner thigh she parted her legs a little more than they already were and murmured, "I'm really wet down there, Otis. Just so you know."

She felt a tingle shudder through her as his fingers whispered higher along her thigh and his boner pressed fiercely against her.

She realised something and opened her eyes to look at him. "Oh, and I should warn you. My boobs don't explode if you touch them but my pussy might."

Otis gave a small chuckle and paused the movement of his fingers. He looked at Maeve, smirking gently and she was amazed that there seemed to be none of the nervousness of inexperience she had assumed would still be in his eyes or in his voice. "My cock likely has the same issue," he said.

Maeve smiled at him. "I'll bear that in mind."

Otis turned away to watch his hand slowly move up Maeve's thigh, pushing her skirt up with it.

"And I'll try to keep the volume down tonight," Maeve continued. "But sometimes I can make a bit of noise especially when I'm coming."

Otis fingers stopped their movement and began tracing a holding pattern on her leg.

"Can't be worse than mum," Otis murmured.

"What?"

"Mum can get very loud when… mid-coitus… and the sound travels in that house."

"Going to have to think of another good place to fuck then."

Otis' fingers stopped their movement and he looked at her.

"I thought we were isolated enough that I could really let myself go," Maeve continued. "Can't do that here or at school."

"You've had sex at school?" Otis asked, surprised.

"Uh-huh," Maeve said. "It's really good. The thought that someone could come in any moment and catch us."

"Where?"

Maeve smiled softly at him. "Broom closet. Textbook storeroom. Empty offices. Did it once in that room we had the first proper clinic."

Otis swallowed and Maeve could see his nervousness return. "I'm not sure I could do that," he said quietly then looked away from her and began stroking a pattern on her leg once more.

"Aimee says the old toilet block is really good," Maeve continued. "It's so grotty and wrong that it makes everything that much more intense."

Otis continued gently stroking her leg and Maeve watched his thoughts turn inwards.

"We could try fucking there if you like," she said quietly. "When you're ready."

"We'll see. Maybe," Otis murmured before taking a breath to bring himself back to the present and looking at Maeve lying half-naked beside him. "Now, shoosh, if you want me to do this and get it right."

"You'll get it right," Maeve murmured then fell silent, watching him.

As his fingers began to continue their slow journey northward, she saw the tension or whatever that had been present when she talked about them fucking was dissipating.

He clearly wanted to and he wasn't freaking out the way he had earlier but actual penetrative sex with her was obviously still a step beyond his comfort zone.

When his fingers finally reached the damp fabric of her pants and he slowly stroked her downstairs lips all thought of his still-present reluctance to fuck vanished from her mind.

* * *

Maeve's breath hitched and hitched again at the feel of Otis' finger carefully, tenderly circling her clitoris before gently brushing across it and then sliding lower to once more stroke her labia. She involuntarily clenched her lower cheeks together and unconsciously lifted her hips slightly to increase the pressure of his fingers against her vag.

She didn't care if Otis would tell her it was technically her vulva he was playing with.

She hadn't quite exploded at his initial touch but she came close and a flicker of amusement crossed her mind at the almost pun before Otis' finger again gently brushed across her clit and back again and she could never remember another person's hand ever making her feel the way this inexperienced virgin was making her feel.

Was it only because he was the son of two sex therapists who had clearly been taught a lot over the years and was now able to move beyond the nervousness of his inexperience and apply those teachings to the first woman he had wanted to be with who was wanting to be with him in return?

Or was it because she loved him in a way she had never loved any of the guys or girls she had ever been with before, most of whom were just fuck-buddies to her and none of whom had ever made her heart and pussy ache the way Otis had been making them ache these past few months?

She wanted it to be mainly because she finally loved someone who was kind and smart and supportive and sexy in his wonderfully offbeat and awkward way and then she felt the cusp of the first wave wash through her and her thoughts focussed on that paradoxically gentle but intense feeling until it passed.

It obviously wasn't the strongest orgasm she had ever had nor was it the gentlest but Maeve knew this was the sweetest because it was caused by this man she loved clearly caring about her pleasure and using his knowledge and those inexperienced fingers to attend to her in the way she hoped she would be able to attend to him when the time came.

It was also the only deliberately-induced orgasm she had ever had while not feeling the touch of the other person's flesh directly against her own flesh down there.

_Damn these fucking pants._

"Otis," she breathed and opened her eyes to see him staring down at her with a shimmer in his eyes that could have been tears and for a moment she worried that he had pushed himself too far in order to give her what he knew she was wanting but then she felt his finger still gently stroking her little labs and watched a soft smile cross his lips.

"Did you come?" he asked and there seemed to be a tender undercurrent in his voice.

"Uh-huh," she nodded, relieved he seemed to be okay. "A little one. It was beautiful," she assured him and he could clearly see she wanted more where that came from.

"You mewled," Otis said.

She nodded. "I told you I make noises."

"Like a kitten," he said.

"Baby lion," Maeve said then asked, "Do you mind if I take these pants off?"

"I don't mind," he said softly and slowly removed his hand from between her legs and there was another undercurrent in his tone that she couldn't quite recognize.

Maeve raised her hips and reached her hands under her skirt and dragged her pants down her legs and over her feet. She sat up, tossed her pants across the room then leant closer to Otis and kissed him the sloppiest and hardest kiss they had had to this point and she smiled against his mouth as he responded to the passion she was feeling.

"You are so far beyond a Pleasure Champion already, muppet," she sighed in amazement when the kiss finished. "And we've still got a ways to go."

Otis was about to speak but she kissed him again and he responded again.

When their lips broke apart, she asked, "So did you see it?"

"What?" Otis asked, confused.

"My pussy. When I took my pants off. Did you get a glimpse of it?"

Otis shook his head.

"Do you want to see it?" she asked, biting her lip.

Otis studied her then said, cautiously, "I was hoping it would remain a mystery box a little while longer."

Maeve smiled. "'Mystery box'," she murmured, shaking her head, lips pressed together in a smile.

"You don't like that one?" Otis asked, still cautiously.

"It's a good one, muppet," Maeve said. "We can use it. 'Otis and I are just going off to solve a mystery.' 'Had a bit of a mystery last night.' 'Let's take a ride on the Magical Mystery Tour.'"

Otis smiled fondly at her. "People will know what we're talking about, Maeve."

"Not to start off with, they won't."

"Lie down, Maeve," Otis said quietly.

Maeve noticed her top had dropped down to cover her boobs again and she reached for the hem and pulled it over her head and tossed it aside then lay back on the bed staring up at the man she hoped she would grow old with.

Otis smiled tenderly at her, glanced down at her breasts then bent over lefty and, looking mischievously into Maeve's eyes, murmured, "Hello, old friend," and kissed and gently sucked her nipple.

Maeve smiled as he moved his head to righty and, still looking mischievously at her, whispered, "And you," and kissed and gently sucked that nipple as well.

"They say hello back," Maeve murmured as Otis raised his head to hers and kissed her tenderly.

"Boobs can't talk, Maeve."

"They talk to me."

"What do they say?"

"That you're the Grand Pleasure Master Champion Poobah of my Universe."

Otis shook his head and raised his hand to press two fingers gently against her upstairs lips. "Shoosh," he whispered.

Maeve wondered if he would be grossed out if she flicked her tongue out to taste herself on him.

* * *

Maeve hitched a breath as Otis' fingers directly touched her downstairs lips again without the annoying and distancing intervention of her pants and then she slowly exhaled as his fingers gently stroked inside them.

She thought for a moment that she was being selfish and should ask him if he now wanted her to touch his cock but then his bare finger brushed gently across her naked clit and a surge of pleasure so close to pain washed through her driving his needs and desires from her mind.

Her clit was so sensitive tonight even before he had made her come.

Not even Jackson - who really was properly good at it and who had spent a lot of time using his fingers and his tongue to ensure she was pleasurably sated – even he had never made her feel this sensitive. Almost, but not quite this.

Maeve moaned softly as Otis' fingers brushed across her clit again and then moved down to stroke inside her little labs again.

The absence when his fingers stopping touching her down there made her entire body ache.

"Maeve," Otis said quietly.

Maeve opened her eyes to see him staring down at her, holding his working hand before her, fingertips facing away from her.

"Do you mind if I touch inside your pussy?" he asked almost shyly.

Maeve realised he was presenting his fingernails for inspection and after a quick glance at them she nodded. "Two, if you like, Otis," she murmured then bit her lip in anticipation as his hand slowly made its way under her skirt again and his fingers again started gently stroking her labia lips and brushing across her clit.

She hoped he was watching her reaction to his touch and wouldn't take too long before finding his way inside her and then she was arching her back slightly as he pushed the tips of two fingers gently past her entrance and slowly turned them to stretch her open.

"Fuuuck," she moaned and wouldn't have been surprised if she came again while he slid them further into her.

He had made her so horny tonight.

Otis made no further motion and Maeve knew he was studying her reaction and she said without opening her eyes, "That was a good 'fuuuck', muppet. Keep going."

Otis slowly moved his fingers deeper inside her until he could push no further without hurting her and then—

He went straight for it. No asking directions. No fumbling around until he found it. Straight for it and gently but firmly stroking it.

She hated the real name for it and wished she could have found a better term for it than girl button but tonight with Otis' fingers working away on it she knew she was going to be launched into the upper stratosphere if not beyond.

Without conscious thought she reached down and grabbed his boner through his jeans.

* * *

Otis breathed deeply as his fingers inside Maeve's vagina stroked her G-spot and he hoped he was still doing this right.

She had seemed pleased all night as he had moved from kissing her and then gently playing with her breasts and then gently playing with her vulva.

He wasn't sure if he had been going to slip over into a panic attack the first time he kissed her nipple and flicked his tongue across it but she had been mostly keeping her eyes closed and letting the sensations he was generating for her wash through her and he was sure he had managed to conceal the beyond-nervousness roiling behind his eyes when she finally did open her own eyes to look at him.

He really was sure the façade was going to fall the first time he touched Maeve's labia minora and clitoris but he seemed to have given her the impression that all he was feeling was the normal things a boy his age and his inclination would be feeling when he touched a partner's pussy for the first time and he managed to keep the memories (mostly) behind their too fragile barrier.

His breathing exercises helped.

Knowing that the second and third time he did something usually proved to be easier than the first time helped.

Seeing the pleasure wash across Maeve's face helped the most as he kept stimulating her in the spots and in the manner his mother and his father had both mentioned as the areas to pay attention to if he wanted to be sure his partner was enjoying herself also. Or himself, they had explained, though with less detail since they assumed he would know his own body by the time he was engaging in foreplay and could adapt to please a male partner if he had had one.

Little did they know how little he would know himself by the time these moments had rolled around.

He wondered if either of them had ever realised how age-inappropriate their teachings were, giving him intimate knowledge of sexuality before he was old enough to truly understand the nuances of everything they were saying to him.

He wondered about having normal non-sex therapist parents who dealt with his questions in the manner most parents would have done.

Was too little information worse than too much?

The clinic made him ponder the question without ever finding an answer since the knowledge and methods of research that helped him assist (most) of their clients certainly seemed to be useless when it came to himself.

Philip Larkin was right.

_They fuck you up, your mum and dad._

_They may not mean to, but they do._

Dad didn't mean to let Otis see he was fucking one of his patients which led to Otis asking his mother why his father was naked with that women which led to his parents arguing loudly enough that they had clearly both forgotten their only child was in the house and hearing every word they said.

Mum didn't mean to let Otis see her throwing plates and cups at dad while repeating every moment Otis had spoken of to her. She was shocked and hurt and angry and didn't mean to let Otis know that sex destroyed lives and allow him to make the connection between the words Otis had told her and the yelling and screaming that only afterward began happening between his parents. She hadn't meant to let Otis realise that he was the one who had destroyed the life she had been living with his father.

Mum and dad didn't mean to live phantom lives in his head, re-enacting those moments over and over so he would never forget that he was the reason for the divorce and that he was his father's son and that everything his father did Otis could do as well and that the only punishment suitable for the boy who destroyed a marriage was to be alone and carry out his penitence for the rest of his life.

His friendship with Eric was the only respite from that penitence and he had been learning to exist comfortably enough within it even if he couldn't be said to be actively embracing it.

Until final day of fifth form.

Until he heard a mean voice from down the corridor say, "Hey, cock-biter. Would you have eaten it if you had bitten it right off?"

Until he heard another nasty voice say, "Whack a bit of sauce and chutney on it and it would have been right tasty, I reckon. What do you think, cock-biter? Did it taste good?"

Until he heard the first voice say, "You could do with putting a bit of boner on those bones, cock-biter."

Until he heard another voice, a beautiful voice, a strong voice, a voice that didn't take shit from anybody say, "Don't worry, fellas. If cocks were still my main diet I wouldn't be after you. I'm a growing girl and need lots of energy."

Until he saw a girl - a _woman_ \- in a lovely fringed jacket walk past him a few moments later without ever once noticing him.

Until he walked down the corridor and saw two frowning cretins staring at each other and wondering if they had just been insulted or not.

Until the day he fell in love with Maeve Wiley.

* * *

Maeve's moan drew Otis out of his reverie and he glanced at her, concerned. When he saw her eyes were still closed he allowed himself to relax, confident that she hadn't seen anything to make her suspect this wasn't as easy for himself as he had been making it out to be.

She wouldn't thank him for putting himself through this to please her but he knew – he believed – he hoped that next time – a day from now, a week from now - when they were once again alone together and doing the things that boyfriends and girlfriends did, he would find each step easier and he would be able to be with her, be inside her if she still wanted him to be.

It had worked with their kissing.

It had worked with him masturbating.

It was working with him touching and kissing her breasts.

It wasn't quite yet working with him… fingering her pussy… but he was still managing to (mostly) hold the memories and the feelings at bay and he hadn't freaked out.

There was just one problem.

He had forgotten the truth about the best laid plans of mice and men.

He had forgotten sometimes people other than himself could get lost in a moment too.

* * *

When Otis felt Maeve's hand touch his erection through his jeans his mind went blank as if he could not quite understand what was happening but when she squeezed firmly and dragged her hand along the length of him beneath the denim material concealing his penis, the barrier keeping those memories and those feelings (mostly) at bay began rapidly crumbling.

He found it hard to catch his breath and why were flamingos standing on the bed and he wondered if he had brought his asthma spray then darkness crept in from the edges of his vision and he realised this was more than an asthma attack and why was Lily riding a bucking whale?

His skin felt cold and clammy and he felt himself tilting as if on a ship during a large storm like in that movie and then the ground disappeared beneath him and he was falling and he vaguely noticed his arms waving around and a small measure of his consciousness hoped he hadn't hurt Maeve when he withdrew his fingers from her and then the ground came back to him and the darkness completed its encroachment on his vision.

When the darkness began to retreat he vaguely realised there was an ache in his hip and someone's arms were around him and a beautiful voice, a crying voice was murmuring in his ear, "I'm sorry, Otis. I'm so sorry, Otis. I'm sorry."

* * *

**Author's Notes: Is this working?**


	14. Chapter 14

**Author's Notes: I am so sorry for the huge delay. Work, the flu and writer's block.**

**This has easily been the hardest chapter to write and if any of it works it is thanks to V whose comments and questions helped me overcome a hurdle and allowed me to continue. Whatever doesn't work is strictly down to me.**

**However I would lower expectations, especially if you really enjoyed the last chapter. It's too soon for more physical intimacy as I deal with the inevitable conversation Maeve and Otis have to have. I only hope I've given it a small measure of justice.**

* * *

**Chapter 14**

Maeve dragged her bedtime shirt over her head and glanced again at the closed door of the bathroom. She was still shaking and though Otis had said he was okay and just needed a few moments alone to rinse his face and check the bruising on his hip she couldn't help being concerned that he would again faint and this time hit his head giving himself a concussion or worse.

She dragged a pair of pants on and straightened her skirt and walked to the door of the bathroom and after a moment spent listening for any noise from the other side asked, "You okay, muppet?"

"I'm okay," Otis' muffled voice came back to her. "I'll be out in a minute."

"No rush, muppet, just…"

"I'm okay, Maeve. Really."

Maeve nodded then said, "I'll be out in the dining room."

She walked out to the other half of the caravan, thought about sitting at the table before realising she was too full of nervous energy and looked around for her cigarettes and grabbed and lit one then leant back against the sink, hoping the shaking would go away soon.

She knew she was still in shock and she could only imagine how much worse it was for Otis.

When he had said he had a panic attack with Lily and fainted she hadn't imagined it would have been as bad as that and she was glad he hadn't hit his head as he tumbled off the bed muttering, "Flamingo, flamingo."

She cursed herself for not retaining enough awareness to not touch his cock when he was not ready for it.

He had obviously not been handling fingering her as well as he had been letting her think he was – and that was on him - and she was a little angry that he hadn't used his safe word sooner so they could slow down for a bit.

She would have been a little disappointed because she had wanted his fingers inside her but not at this cost to himself.

No amount of the pleasure he had been giving her was worth this cost to himself.

She was more than just a little angry with him but that was a pale shadow next to her concern for him.

That reaction was not simply the product of inexperience.

She continued staring into nothing as the churning in her gut increased and the rawness in her throat sharpened and more tears fought their way to the surface.

* * *

Otis wiped his face with the towel held in his hands and then stared at his red-rimmed eyes in the mirror, wondering how he could ever look Maeve in her eyes again. He could barely stand to look at himself.

Maeve had trusted him, allowed him to be intimate with her, believing that if his feelings of discomfort became too much he would – as he had promised – use his safe word, slow things down, not put her in a situation where she had to deal with his panic if events moved outside his control when he was not prepared for them.

He had lied to her again, deceived her again, presented a false façade to her again, took away her opportunity to choose not to let him continue, to not participate in a situation that had always had the potential to lead to where it eventually ended up. He had taken away her right to say no.

It was a shitty thing to do to her and he knew it said so many shitty things about himself.

It didn't matter that he knew she wanted him to do the things to her that he was doing to her. It didn't matter that she had asked him to touch her pussy. It didn't matter that he knew he was pleasing her with his fingers. It didn't matter that he had managed to make her come. It _really_ didn't matter that, technically, he _had_ been handling the situation, using every emotional and cognitive resource he possessed to both please Maeve and reconcile the conflict between his desire to be with her and the discomfort with sexuality that had been festering ever since he had made the connection between his question to his mother and his mother's anger with his father.

If he had told Maeve about his discomfort she would at least have been prepared, would likely not have allowed herself to get so completely lost in the moment, would likely not have touched his penis when he wasn't ready for it.

Would most likely have refused permission for him to escalate their foreplay beyond her breasts.

He hoped that had not been even an unconscious part of his motive for not telling her he was uncomfortable but wanted to continue stroking both inside and outside her pussy.

He hoped he wouldn't have to hate himself that much more than he already did.

* * *

Maeve sensed his presence and looked up to see him standing in the doorway to the other half of the caravan, shame and regret clearly visible on his face and in his posture. She could see the effort he was making to look directly into her eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Maeve," he said quietly.

Maeve threw her cigarette in the sink and within three strides reached him and wrapped her arms around him.

"Are you okay?" she asked, her concern for him crowding out everything else she was feeling. "Do you want to go to the hospital? Get checked out?"

Otis tentatively wrapped his arms around her, shaking his head. "I'm fine," he said.

"Are you sure?" she asked, squeezing him tighter.

"Yeah," he said. "You're shaking," he continued, his voice constricted with remorse and regret.

"You scared the crap out of me," Maeve said, her voice awash with held-back tears.

"I'm sorry," Otis breathed.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes."

That seemed to give her permission. All the emotions she had been holding in check broke free and Maeve abruptly pushed herself back, breaking their embrace.

"Fuck you for not using your safe word, Otis," she snapped, voice raw with emotion.

Otis flinched, realising that however much he had prepared himself for the possibility of this moment it was still not enough.

"You were supposed to use it so shit like this wouldn't happen," Maeve continued, unable to stop herself.

"I know," Otis said, too softly for Maeve to hear even if she had actually been listening at that moment.

"What's the fucking point of working out something like that if you can't even fucking use it when the time comes? If you're not going to be fucking honest with me after all the shit that's happened then what type of fucking relationship are we going to have? What is the fucking point of even fucking trying to have a relationship?"

Otis swallowed and nodded. "I know."

"You know," sneered Maeve. "Lot of fucking good knowing does if you don't fucking do anything with it."

"I'm sorry," Otis repeated.

"Fucking Christ, Otis," Maeve snapped, frustrated. "I know you're sorry. I know you didn't mean for that to happen. But how can we have a relationship if I can't fucking trust you?"

"We can't," Otis said quietly.

"What?" Maeve asked, brusquely.

"I'm fucked up, Maeve," Otis continued, voice hollow with hopelessness. "I'm not fit to be in a relationship."

Maeve shook her head. "No, Otis, that's not what I'm saying," she said, taking a deep breath and softening the edge in her tone. "I don't want to break up with you. I just want you to be fucking honest with me. If fingering my pussy was too much for you then you should have told me and we could have just gone back to titplay."

"I'll never be who you deserve to be with," Otis said.

"Don't fucking tell me who I do or don't deserve to be with. That's _my_ fucking choice." She took another deep breath and spoke carefully, deliberately. "I'm angry because I care about you, not because I don't want to be with you. I'd just tell you to fuck off right now if I didn't want to be with you."

"But how can you trust me again, Maeve?" Otis asked and Maeve could hear the depths of his self-loathing.

"You tell me," she said bluntly, staring directly into his eyes.

Otis stared at her for a moment then dropped his gaze and ogled the floor for another moment before looking back up at her. "By always being honest with you."

"Genius," she said with a mocking undertone.

Otis nodded, took a slow deep breath and slowly released it, staring into Maeve's eyes, tears filling his own. He tried repeatedly to say something more before giving up and letting his shoulders slump even further than they already had been.

Maeve pressed her lips together, stared challengingly at him, cut short a sniffle then stepped forward to embrace him again.

"You fucking muppet, muppet," she said, her anger ebbing, blinking away her own tears.

Otis slowly lifted his arms and returned her embrace.

"I'm sorry," he murmured yet again.

"I know," she said soothingly.

She squeezed him tighter, reluctant to let him go.

"I'm sorry I touched your cock without asking," she eventually said.

Otis shook his head sharply. "You were lost in the moment like I was last night. It wasn't your fault, Maeve. It was mine."

"I know it was your fault," Maeve snapped, then swallowed and continued in a softer tone. "You can't do that again, Otis. Next time, let me know how you're feeling."

"Next time…" Otis murmured.

"If you want there to be a next time."

Otis was quiet for a moment and Maeve only relaxed when she heard his quiet murmur, "I do."

* * *

Maeve and Otis sat on opposite sides of the table. Otis was staring quietly at the tabletop, lost in his roiling thoughts. Maeve watched him carefully, feeling drained after her release of tension.

"Are you sure you're okay?" she asked quietly, concerned.

Otis nodded and looked up at her. "I'll be fine. What doesn't kill us only makes us stronger, right?"

Maeve gave him a sad soft smile. "Kelly Clarkson?"

He gave a sad soft smile in return. "Somebody like that."

"I'm sorry I was yelling," she said.

"Don't say 'sorry', Maeve."

"Now I know why mums yell at their kids after they stop them getting run over," she said.

Otis grimaced. "Wasn't I the one who ran you over?"

Maeve picked up her pack of cigarettes and took one out. "You must have been driving a lorry, the way I feel."

"Did I hurt you when I took my fingers out?" Otis asked, concerned.

"No," said Maeve, lighting her cigarette.

"I was worried."

Maeve gave him a soft smile and said, "But she only has eight lives left. You scared her to death. Not sure I'll be able to have anything up there again."

Otis gave her another soft smile awash with remorse.

"Not true," she whispered.

They settled into silence for a while as Maeve took deep drags on her cigarette.

"Was that as bad as with Lily?" she eventually asked.

"I think it was worse," Otis said after a moment's hesitation.

"Because you were prepared for Lily touching your cock but you weren't prepared for me doing it?"

Otis reluctantly nodded.

"Why, Otis? Why didn't you say something?"

"I thought I could handle it."

"Were you? I mean, before I grabbed your boner?"

Otis nodded. "Mostly. It was uncomfortable but…"

"But?"

"I was managing. I was doing my deep breathing exercises."

"I just thought you were turned on." She smirked. "I mean, I know you were turned on. It was pressing against my leg."

"I wasn't even noticing it at that point. I was focussed on…"

"Fingering me?"

Otis smiled. "Yeah."

"It felt really good, Otis. You have magic fingers," Maeve said softly.

"I was hoping I was doing it right."

"But you should have stopped if it was getting too much."

"I thought if I kept on then next time – if there was going to be a next time – it would be easier."

"Was it bad? I mean, did it feel bad? Wet, sticky. Did that feel bad?"

"No, no, that felt good, Maeve. You felt really good. And seeing that what I was doing was making you feel good was making me feel good."

"I don't want you putting yourself through that distress to make me feel good, Otis. Sex is supposed to be fun for both of us."

"I thought I could handle it," he repeated, lamely.

Maeve stubbed out her cigarette in the ashtray. "I never suspected how close to panicking you were. I thought you were just nervous, maybe a little uncomfortable. Not that."

"I should have told you."

"Master of the Bleeding Obvious and Champion of the Too Fucking Late, you are."

"Captain Hindsight."

Maeve took a deep breath then dropped her gaze momentarily before looking back up at Otis, unable to contain the question any longer, needing to know. "It wasn't just about being inexperienced, was it?" she asked quietly, studying him.

Otis seemed to flinch internally.

"Did something happen to you?" she asked hesitantly, hoping she was strong enough to hear the answer.

Otis kept staring at her for a moment then he realised and shook his head. "Nothing like what you're thinking."

Maeve released the breath she hadn't realised she had been holding.

"Can you talk about it?" she asked quietly.

Otis said nothing but Maeve could see he was churning over his thoughts.

"It's okay," she began. "You don't have to if—"

"I caught dad fucking one of his patients," he said, looking straight into her eyes.

Maeve stared at him, stunned, struggling to find words to respond until eventually she managed to squeak "What?"

* * *

Otis sat on the couch, hands clasped together as he gazed down at his feet. Maeve was beside him, facing him, legs curled up under herself with her elbow resting on the back of the couch and her head resting on her hand as she watched him gently.

"How old were you?" she asked quietly.

"Four. I hadn't started school. I was in my room playing when I heard noises and I went downstairs and looked through the door of dad's office and I saw them together."

"Your dad and his patient?"

Otis nodded.

"Did you know what they were doing?" Maeve asked.

"No idea. That's why I asked mum."

"She was in the house?"

"No, she was out. Somewhere. But that night she was reading me a story and I asked her what dad and the woman were doing."

"What did she say?"

"That they were having sex… no, she said intercourse."

"Did you know what that was?"

"No. Mum said it was when a man put his penis inside a woman's vagina. I asked if it hurt. She said it could and that intercourse could be wonderful but sex could also destroy lives."

Maeve winced. "Did you understand what she meant?"

"Not until they started arguing."

Maeve closed her eyes momentarily and drew in a soft slow breath. "Oh, muppet," she whispered.

"They'd never argued," Otis began. "Not that I heard. Not until that point. The first time I remember hearing mum shouting I came out and watched through the banister on the stairs. I remember her telling him 'You put your cock in her'."

"What was your father doing?"

"He was being a dick."

"How?"

"Gaslighting. Telling mum she was a crazy woman. It wasn't worth getting upset over. She was overreacting."

Maeve pressed her lips together to keep from saying anything.

"It was so fucking scary," Otis said. "Mum was throwing things at dad and dad was saying he wasn't going to deal with her until she calmed down. I had never seen her angry like that. Not even when I was being a brat."

"No wonder you're so confused about things," Maeve said quietly.

"I fucked up the marriage," Otis said, bitterly.

"Your father fucked up the marriage."

"Mum would never have found out if it wasn't for me."

"You don't know that."

"They never argued before I said anything."

"It's not your fault, Otis."

Otis glanced at her, disbelieving, but said nothing.

"Have you ever talked to anyone about this?" Maeve asked.

After a moment, Otis shook his head.

"Do you think it would help if you talked to someone about it? I don't mean me, but talk to someone?"

"Maybe," Otis said in a small voice.

"It would help, wouldn't it?" Maeve said quietly.

"Maybe," he repeated.

Maeve gazed at him for a moment and knew there was no point in pushing further right now.

"Just think about it, okay?" she said gently.

Otis nodded.

"Does Eric know?" Maeve asked.

Otis was quiet for a moment then said, "What part of 'I haven't talked to anyone about it' did you miss?"

"Fuck you," Maeve said, smirking softly.

"Sorry," Otis said, smiling.

"Don't apologise or I'll show you my boobs again."

"You won't have to call the paramedics now," Otis said indifferently.

"Then I'll unwrap my mystery box and take your photo."

Otis frowned. "What?"

"Flash you."

Otis swallowed. "Yeah, you might need the paramedics for that."

"Sorry," said Maeve, quietly apologetic. "I should stop pushing."

Otis shook his head. "No, Maeve. I want you to be you."

"But if I hadn't been saying I wanted to fuck your brains out and going on about wanting you to be inside me, would you have pushed yourself?"

"Maybe," Otis said.

Maeve looked at him sceptically.

"Maeve, I want you, too. I want to be inside you. I want to make love with you."

Maeve grimaced. "You're too young to say 'make love'. Don't use that one again."

"That's why I was pushing myself. I told you, things were getting easier the more I did them and I… I wanted to rush things. To be with you."

Maeve gently stroked his hair. "Well, we're back to slowly now."

"I just hope…"

Maeve waited a moment then asked, "What?"

"I just hope I didn't tell you how I was feeling because I thought you'd say 'no'."

Maeve was surprised. "About fingering me?"

Otis nodded. "Yeah."

"Is that why you didn't tell me?"

"I don't know. Not consciously. But…"

"But…?"

"Look at what dad did. What if I'm my father's son? What if I'm like him?"

Maeve was quiet for a moment. "I don't believe that's why you did it, Otis. I don't think you would have been thinking that at all. I don't think you're that selfish. I mean, you should have told me and I probably would have said 'no' but you were still thinking of me as well when you did it. No one who wasn't thinking of me could pay that much attention to getting me off."

"I'm sorry I didn't think of what it would be like for you if things did go the way they did."

Maeve nodded. "You're not a bad guy, Otis, you just keep fucking up. But if you do anything like it again, we're definitely through."

"I won't," Otis promised, and Maeve knew he meant it and hoped he would be able to keep it.

Otis stared gently at her for a moment then turned away, his face crumpling.

"Sometimes I fucking hate my dad. I was in the house. He should have locked the door, made sure I couldn't catch them."

Maeve sat in silence, watching him gently.

"And mum," Otis continued. "Christ, mum, don't tell me sex destroys lives. I'm four. I don't…"

Maeve kept her tender gaze on him.

"That's one thing that really pisses me off about them. They didn't take into account how old I was when they were telling me stuff. About sex. I didn't fucking understand and they're..."

Maeve watched as he struggled to hold back his tears and she reached out and put her arm around his shoulder.

"It's okay," she murmured, reaching her other arm around to draw him closer and as she felt him surrender to his silent shuddering sorrow she couldn't help recognising the contrast with two nights earlier.

Jackson had felt like a burden. This felt like love.

* * *

Maeve sat back, one hand gently resting against Otis' shoulder as he took deep shuddering breaths then, embarrassed, began wiping the tears from his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"Don't be," Maeve said softly.

Otis sighed heavily. "I must be a real disappointment to dad," he said.

"Why do you say that?"

"Just… you should see my dad. It's not a surprise his patient wanted to have sex with him. He's so… handsome and charming. He gets all these groupies on tour. I visited him once and they were basically throwing themselves at him."

"So why do you think you're a disappointment to him?" Maeve asked quietly.

Otis shrugged. "When I asked him about… when he lost his virginity, he was just… I don't know… I just sensed he thought I was pathetic."

"You're not pathetic," Maeve said quietly, shaking her head.

"That's why I decided I would go and ask Lily to have sex with me."

"_You_ asked _her_?" Maeve asked, surprised.

"Oh, she'd already asked me but I turned her down."

"When?"

Otis hesitated. "During the Jackson business."

"Was I the reason you turned her down?"

"Part of it. But I wasn't interested in sex just for the sake of it." He shook his head, regretfully. "I should have stayed with my first instinct," he said ruefully.

Maeve looked at him, pondering. "So how does the thing with your dad affect what happened tonight?"

"I always see it. Or I feel it. How I felt when mum was throwing things at dad. How I felt when dad told me he wasn't going to be living with us anymore."

"Is that how you were feeling tonight?"

Otis nodded. "Yeah."

Maeve gently wandered her gaze across his face then said, quietly, "You didn't cause the divorce, Otis."

"It feels like I did."

"That's because you were four and you didn't understand and your mum didn't explain it in a way you could understand."

Otis glanced at her but kept quiet.

"I like Jean," Maeve said. "But she was wrong to say that to you."

Otis nodded. "Mum seems to be a good therapist but sometimes she can be so… I don't know."

"Reminds me of a guy I know," Maeve murmured.

Otis smiled gently at her, then sighed, berating himself. "Oh, I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"Here I am whining about mum and dad but at least I have them. Dad always sends me a present within a week of my birthday and mum… when I panicked with Lily I asked her to get mum and I knew she'd be there for me. And she was."

Otis' eyes roamed across her face.

"I wish you had…" he began then let his words drift away. "I'm sorry I'm being self-centered."

Maeve swallowed, thinking Otis really was a contrast to everyone else she had been with. She shuffled her posture to mimic his and sidled closer, leaning into him. After a moment, he lifted his arm and placed it around her shoulders.

They sat that way for a while, each taking comfort in the presence of the other until Maeve softly spoke.

"What is slowly going to mean for us now?"

Otis thought for a moment. "We just see what happens. If I feel uncomfortable I'll let you know and we can stop for a bit. Nothing more tonight," he clarified quickly.

"No," Maeve agreed.

"But don't stop pushing. I don't want you not to be you."

"I won't push so hard."

They settled into silence for a while then Otis stared gently at her. "Thank you," he said quietly.

"What for?"

"Being here for me. Not pushing me away."

Maeve snuggled closer against him. "Why would I push you away? It was a really good night except for that one little bit at the end there."

Otis smirked. "'Apart from that, Mrs Lincoln, how was the play?'"

"Well, the lead was a bit woody but he certainly knew how to push the right buttons with the audience."

* * *

**Author's Note: I'm not sure I can do anything more to improve this at the moment so I hope it works enough. The only section that flowed onto the page was the first one. Everything else was crafted and shuffled and reshuffled and reconstructed from bits and pieces of many failures and dead-ends so I hope I've managed to smooth out the bumps and have it seem believable.**

**I cannot give any timeframe for the arrival of the next chapter but I'll bring it to you as soon as I am able.**

**I really appreciate your patience and desire for me to continue the story. I'll do my best not to let you down.**


	15. Chapter 15

**Author's Notes: I am so sorry for the lengthy delay. Apart from having a month's leave with less time than expected to work on the story, I've been having difficulties working out how to get the story to where I want it to go. I had written over 6000 words, set aside about 2500 of them with the intention of using them at what I felt would be a more appropriate time, then moved the story forward again – and promptly hit a brick wall.**

**So I've decided to trust my instincts and bring some of those 2500 words back and let the story take me where **_**it**_** wants to go. I wish I hadn't taken this long to make that decision. I'm really sorry and thank you for your patience.**

**I've started noting when the day switches over and have gone back and added that sub-heading where appropriate. I may have to start skipping days or combining multiple days into a single chapter and the sub-headings will avoid confusion for both of us.**

**Thank you all for continuing to read.**

* * *

**Chapter 15**

**Day 4**

Maeve and Otis sat on the floor of her caravan, leaning against her couch, legs stretched out before themselves, a pile of discarded cards between them. Otis was glad Maeve had suggested they needed to do something to unwind. He was less glad that Maeve had been flogging the pants off him.

Maeve put her remaining cards down and looked smugly at Otis without saying a word.

Otis sighed. "That's six meals I owe you."

"You're not deliberately trying to lose, are you?" asked Maeve, studying him suspiciously.

"No, I'm just hopeless at this."

"I'm not a charity case, Otis. I can feed myself."

"I know you're not a charity case."

Maeve studied him for a moment longer then shrugged and started gathering the cards together.

"Don't you want to go out to eat with me?" Otis asked, plaintively.

Maeve ignored his question and held the gathered cards out to him.

"Another game?" she asked.

Otis took the cards then glanced at the clock.

"It's after midnight," he said.

Maeve glanced at the clock in surprise. "Shit, where'd the time go?"

"That's an interesting philosophical question. Where does time go?"

"I will take your photo if you try to answer that question tonight. This morning," she corrected herself.

"_Do_ you want another game?" Otis asked, smiling.

Maeve thought for a moment then shook her head. "Nah, I'm feeling drained. Probably have to go to bed soon."

"It's been a stressful night," Otis murmured.

"You really haven't been trying to lose?"

"No, but…" Otis said, frowning as he weighed up whether to say something more.

"But?" Maeve asked suspiciously.

Otis sighed and went for it. "I'm concerned, Maeve. If we're not doing the clinic next week, how are you going to manage?"

"I'll manage."

Otis stared at her, lips pressed together.

"My monthly study money comes in next week," Maeve said.

"How long will that last you?"

Maeve shrugged. "I can pay a couple of weeks rent."

"That's all?"

"I'll manage. I have some savings. Sean pulling that shit with the dress meant I didn't have to spend that money."

Otis looked at her for a moment, wondering, then asked, softly, aware she probably wouldn't answer, "Do you think he's coming back?"

Maeve was quiet for a moment, reflecting, then shrugged and said, "Dunno."

"How long was he gone for?"

"48 hours so far."

Otis stared blandly at her.

Maeve sighed, then glanced over her shoulder at the couch. She reached over and grabbed a cushion and tossed it at a surprised Otis then grabbed another for herself. She lay down on her side, placing the pillow under her head and stared softly at her boyfriend.

Otis smiled softly back at her then lay down to mirror her position.

When he had settled, she said, "He was gone four months. I just woke up one morning and he hadn't come home. He wouldn't answer his phone and eventually I just got the disconnected message. Didn't know if he was alive or dead."

"Did he say why he left?"

"A shoe deal gone wrong, he said."

Otis frowned. "Shoe deal?"

Maeve shrugged. "I don't know what to believe with him anymore. He used to be funny. Cool. Flaky but… we supported each other. He looked out for me when mum couldn't. Or wouldn't."

"Wouldn't?" Otis asked softly.

Maeve hesitated then said, quietly, "She moved in with some dickhead she'd been seeing. Didn't take us with her. That's why we had to move here. Sean and me."

Otis stared gently at her. "You said you hadn't seen her for two years."

"The dickhead got busted. Mum had the choice between jail or rehab and she chose rehab. We'd visit her. She'd tell us she was gonna come home after but she didn't."

"She went up north?" Otis asked quietly.

Maeve nodded. "Another of her conquests from rehab lived up there so she went with him. I didn't know where she was until Sean said his mates had seen her up at Milton."

Otis drew small, gentle breaths as he watched her tenderly.

"She really did try not to be a junkie," Maeve said. "I'm not lying about that. She checked herself into rehab a couple of times without having to go. But it never stuck."

Maeve blinked back tears then looked directly into Otis' eyes.

"Can we change the subject?" she asked softly.

Otis reached out his free hand and touched hers and she grasped it.

"I'm sorry," he said.

Maeve stared tenderly at him for a moment then squeezed his hand gently and said, "Don't say sorry."

Otis was quiet for a moment, staring into her eyes then asked, "What do you want to talk about?"

Maeve thought for a moment then said, "You didn't just start liking me this term, did you?"

Otis was silent for a moment then replied, "Last day of fifth form."

Maeve struggled to remember. "I can't remember seeing you on the last day. Did you run into me?"

Otis smiled at the confirmation. "I didn't think you had noticed me."

"So what happened?"

"Do you remember Clyde Clutterbuck and Harley Wilson?"

"I know them. Couple of dropkicks."

"You were at your locker and they were…" Otis hesitated, struggling to find words he was comfortable saying.

"Calling me cock-biter?" Maeve asked wryly.

Otis nodded. "And worse. Being really shitty."

"I don't remember."

"You just said to them that if cocks were still your main meal you wouldn't be after them."

Maeve chuckled. "Yeah, sounds like something I'd say."

"Then you just walked straight past me, didn't even notice me."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. That's one of the things I liked. You'd just put up with that crap and it was like it had never even happened. You had instantly put it behind you. You were so strong and so smart and they didn't even realise what you'd actually said about them. I tell myself that's the day I fell in love with you, but it wasn't. But it _was_ the day…" He struggled for the words.

"You became intrigued by me?"

"Yeah. And then I had the summer to think about you."

Maeve smirked. "And what exactly did you think about me?"

"Just that I wish I could get to know you. I'd basically given up on the idea of ever being with someone but you… changed that."

Maeve looked at him shrewdly. "Did you bump into me deliberately?"

"No. I just wasn't watching where I was going."

Maeve gazed tenderly at him and smirked gently. "Did you know that's when Jackson made his first move on me?"

"No."

"He wrote out a penalty slip for me."

"I'm sorry."

"'Meet me after school.'"

Otis gave her an uncertain smile.

"I just think it's funny you were so much involved in things pushing me toward Jackson but I've finally ended up with you."

"The universe has a strong sense of irony."

"Must mean we were meant to be."

Otis smiled gently at her.

She abruptly lifted herself up, grabbed the cushion and shoved it across the carpet to rest beside Otis then shuffled herself over to it and lay down again.

"This isn't too close?" she asked quietly.

"No," said Otis.

"You were right," she said softly.

"What about?"

"I _was_ attracted to Jackson. He's a nice guy and he was the first guy in a long time that I did have wistful moments about. Y'know, what if? And it kind of felt good to have those wistful moments. And when you and him tricked me into a relationship there were some really nice moments that I'm glad I had. Things I'm glad I experienced. The only problem with all of it was that it was with the wrong guy."

Otis swallowed and took a slow deep breath. "I really never thought this could be possible."

Maeve smiled. "Really, kangaroo? Why wouldn't you think this was possible? You bumped into me and I told you to fuck off. You kept staring at me and I gave you the finger. You had to sit next to me and I'm all 'goddammit'. How could you not see this as inevitable?"

Otis smirked. "I just had a vague suspicion you didn't like me very much."

"I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"I probably thought you'd heard the rumours and had a spare fiver and you were just screwing up the courage to ask."

Otis blinked in surprise. "I never believed the rumours, Maeve. I'd heard them, but—"

"I know," said Maeve, squeezing his hand. "When I saw you talk Adam's cock down off the ledge I knew you weren't the type of guy who'd believe that bullshit. Or care, anyway."

"I never believed them. You can ask Eric."

"I don't need to."

She stared softly into his eyes.

"Do you want to know the exact moment you began intriguing me?" she asked.

"Which moment?" Otis asked quietly.

"When you were telling Adam to own his narrative and that he shouldn't give a shit what other people thought. You weren't saying anything I wasn't already doing but I felt as if you could really see me even if you didn't know it. That's when I saw how really amazing you were."

Otis stared gently at her.

"Then I started noticing how cute you were," she said.

Otis scrunched his face in skepticism.

"I'm serious, muppet. Next day I saw you with Eric and you were doing some dorky karate or kung-fu move and you looked so cute. You were so unself-conscious. Until…" she shrugged.

"Until?"

"Until you saw me watching you."

"I wouldn't have wanted to look like an idiot in front of you."

"Biting my tongue," smirked Maeve.

Otis poked his own tongue at her, eyes glittering.

"What did you hear about me?" she asked after a moment.

"Doesn't matter, Maeve."

Maeve was silent for another moment, then said, "Did you hear I'm trisexual?"

Otis frowned. "What's trisexual?"

"I'll try anything sexual."

Otis groaned at the pun.

"It's not true," Maeve said. "Lots of things I haven't tried. Lots of things I'm not interested in. I'm really kinda vanilla."

"There's nothing vanilla about you, Maeve."

"You haven't tasted me yet," she smirked gently.

Otis blushed but Maeve could see he still really did want to taste her one day.

"I'm sorry," she said.

He shook his head. "It's not too much. Slow doesn't mean still."

"Hey," she began, biting her lip.

"What?" Otis asked.

She opened her mouth to speak then thought better of it. "Doesn't matter," she said.

"You can say it," Otis said.

"Another time."

Otis stared blandly at Maeve.

"I'm just starting to get silly. I'm tired. I should go to bed before I push too far."

Maeve started to sit up but stopped when Otis gently touched her arm. She looked at him as he stared into her eyes then raised his head toward her.

"What were you going to say?" he asked softly.

"It was just a dirty joke. I'll tell you another time. When it's more appropriate."

Otis nodded. "Okay," he said softly, parting his lips and moving closer to her.

Gently, she leaned in for their first kiss since the evening's startling left turn and was pleased that he seemed as comfortable as he had been prior to that moment. She knew it wasn't an act this time.

They broke apart and stared gently into each other's eyes until Otis broke the spell.

"You're right," he said. "It _has_ been a draining night. I think I need to sleep, too."

Maeve bit her lip and asked tentatively, "Do you want to sleep in the bed? Just sleeping."

Otis thought for a moment, then said, "Do you mind if I sleep out here?"

Maeve tried to keep her disappointment hidden. "No, it's okay. I'll get you a blanket but if you change your mind just come in. Don't worry about waking me."

Otis nodded. "Okay."

Maeve started to rise again then stopped again and turned back to Otis. She leaned in close to him, looking into his eyes.

"Try to forgive yourself, Otis. It really wasn't your fault."

* * *

Otis opened his eyes as awareness returned to him and he momentarily felt disoriented by the unfamiliar surroundings before remembering where he was and a quiet sense of ease and satisfaction settled over him.

His eyes wandered the room, drinking in his surroundings, trying to find those areas that were distinctly, uniquely Maeve.

Events of the night before flashed across his mind.

The feel of his fingers against and inside Maeve, the looks traversing her face at his tender ministrations, that little mewling baby lion sound she made as she came, the shimmer of pleasure tingling through him as he realised he had given her an orgasm – these washed over him leaving a sense of hope and wonder and peace and a desire for more chances to please her.

He had feared he could never please anyone, not even himself. He had now been proven wrong on both counts.

He struggled to remember the sensation behind the memory of Maeve's hand on his penis but it eluded him and he wistfully wished he could recover it. He wanted to feel that. Wanted to feel it under circumstances in which he felt a sense of control that was missing the night before. Wanted it to replace the memory of the frantic incomprehensibility of his panic after Maeve gripped him through his jeans and firmly ran her hand the length of him.

That panic attack. Thankfully, it had been brief. Thankfully, he had lost consciousness. Thankfully, Maeve was willing to listen to him as he explained as best he could the source of the fear that overwhelmed him. Thankfully, he was able to receive strength from her as she held him against herself while he cried years of tears.

He hadn't realised how much he had needed that release and however grateful he had been to Maeve last night for accepting the tears and helping him through them and not shaming him for them, he felt even more appreciation for her this morning. Last night would have been a hard night for her to experience and she hadn't pushed him away. Hadn't cut him out of her life as he had expected her to. Hadn't done anything except make him feel loved and supported and wanted.

He took a deep breath and circled his attention back to his memories of the panic attack and was surprised that he wasn't overwhelmed with that chest-crushing feeling he had every time he thought of the aborted attempt to lose his virginity with Lily. Last night's panic attack was still difficult to contemplate; it was uncomfortable to re-experience even a shadow of that feeling, but comparing it with that time with Lily, the attack itself felt much much worse at the time but in the morning aftermath there was a sense he could very soon view it dispassionately. At one step remove. As something that had happened to him but no longer lived in his present.

It was as if releasing those tears and allowing Maeve to hear those things that he felt most ashamed of had reduced their power over him. He wasn't healed - the Gordian Knot hadn't been cut or untied or burnt away – but he felt just a little bit lighter, a little bit stronger, a little bit more optimistic.

He wandered his eyes around the room, wondering what to do for the immediate future. He wasn't going to retreat to the beginning. He understood that. He wasn't wanting to simply stay with kissing and cuddling and maybe a bit of titplay. Slow was not still, if Maeve was willing. He also wasn't going to make the same mistake he had made yesterday and push himself to the point he felt almost overwhelmingly uncomfortable without the ability to cope with the unexpected. Not being still was not the equivalent of sprinting.

He wasn't exactly certain what they were going to do but he understood that he and Maeve could work it out together, assuming in the cold light of day she was still wanting to dance this dance with him.

He really hoped she was.

* * *

Maeve opened her eyes and stared sleepily at the bedside clock. It wasn't as late as she thought it would be and she briefly thought of closing her eyes again and rejoining the dream that still lingered in her thoughts then she remembered her words of earlier that morning and glanced over her shoulder but Otis hadn't joined her in the bed. She was a little disappointed but it was understandable. She was sad that it was understandable.

Memories of the night before should have been a nightmare she had been having and her dream should have been the reality. She smiled softly to herself. It was a nice dream and she knew some version of it would become reality but she wished Otis didn't have to go through the nightmare to get there.

She threw back the bedcovers and sat up then stood and, after a detour into the bathroom to brush her teeth and take a pee, walked to the kitchen.

She stared gently at Otis still seemingly asleep on the lounge, smiling softly at how peaceful he seemed to be. She hoped he had been having a dream similar to hers. She knew he had at least one dream about her and, judging by his reaction when he inadvertently admitted it to her, it must have been a good, sexy dream. She wondered what they had got up to. She hoped one day he would tell her.

She walked to the cupboard and took out a bowl then poured cereal in it, noting that was yet another thing she would have to go shopping for. She sighed as she walked to the fridge for the milk – another thing to go on the list – and as she was pouring as little as she could get away with into the bowl, she heard his voice from the direction of the lounge.

"Morning," Otis sighed.

Maeve smiled to herself. "Morning," she said and returned the milk to the fridge. "There's still some milk for cereal, if you want it."

"Mmmph," Otis grunted. "Maybe in a little bit."

Maeve grabbed a spoon from the drawer and picked up the bowl and walked to the table, glancing at her boyfriend now sitting up on the lounge, blanket crumpled across his legs.

"How did you sleep? Wasn't too uncomfortable, was it?" Maeve scooped some cereal onto the spoon and raised it to her lips.

"No, it was good. I feel really refreshed. How did _you_ sleep?"

"Mmmm," Maeve hummed, chewing her mouthful.

"Did that mean good?" Otis asked.

Maeve swallowed and said, "I had a dream about you."

She scooped more cereal to her lips and stared blandly at him.

"Was it a good one?" he asked.

"Mmmm," Maeve hummed, giving him a gentle smile.

"What were we doing?"

Maeve finished her mouthful and said, "Tell you some other time."

Otis nodded and said, "Maeve…?"

"Mmmm?" Maeve asked, raising another spoonful of cereal to her lips.

"Thanks for last night. For listening to me. Letting me talk. You were right. Talking about it did help."

"You're feeling better?" Maeve asked after she swallowed.

"Better than I expected. I'm not healed but it's like… there isn't so much of a burden. My chest isn't as tight as it has been. It's not tight at all. You know, like somebody had grabbed it and was crushing it like a vice."

"That's what it's been like for you?"

"Sometimes," Otis said, reflecting. "Sometimes it's felt like I was holding back a… I don't know… tiger trying to break free and destroy everything."

"I'm glad you didn't say lion," Maeve murmured.

"I just mean… I feel better, having someone who knows who hasn't rejected me." He gave Maeve a soft smile. "Yet."

Maeve smiled gently. "Thank you for trusting me," she said quietly.

"How do _you_ feel after last night's freakshow?"

"I'm just glad you're feeling better."

"That must have been really hard for you."

Maeve inhaled a slow soft breath and seemed about to speak before changing her mind and simply saying, "We both survived it."

"I'm going to go see someone," Otis said softly. "I know I need to."

A wave of relief washed through Maeve but she hoped she wasn't letting Otis see exactly how glad that made her. "Your very own Otis," she murmured.

"Someone better, I hope."

Maeve shook her head, sighing, but chose not to feed into his negativity toward himself, whether in this instance it was real or feigned. "You gonna ask your mum to recommend someone?"

"No," said Otis, quickly. "I don't want her to know. Not yet. Please don't tell her."

"That's yours to tell," Maeve said, shaking her head as a promise.

"Thank you."

"I'm glad you're doing this," Maeve said softly. "I'll help however you need me to."

"Just be you," Otis said.

Maeve finished the last of her cereal and pushed the bowl aside.

"So, any idea what you want to do today?" she asked.

"Hadn't thought about it."

"Did you have plans with Eric?"

"Not this weekend. He said he's got some family thing."

"So, what do you want to do? Do you want to take a break from each other?"

"No," said Otis, shaking his head emphatically.

Maeve smiled. "So what _do_ you want to do?"

Otis stared thoughtfully at her for moment before speaking. "I want…" he began, then sighed.

"Want what?"

Otis looked at her and she was surprised to see that he was suddenly nervous and uncertain and she was reminded how much she thought he was really cute when he was in this state. She just wasn't sure why now.

"I don't know if I should…" Otis said then drifted off into silence again.

"You can say it," Maeve said quietly.

"How do… I'm just wondering… Would you be willing…" His voice faded away again as he struggled to find the words.

_Oh_, Maeve realised. _That's why now._

Smirking gently, she stood up and walked across the room toward him. She loved the way he was looking at her as she approached. Appreciation. So very far away from objectification.

"You want to pick up where we left off, don't you?" she said as she sat beside him, snuggling close to him.

"Are you willing to risk it?" he asked tentatively.

"Are you?"

"It doesn't have to be right now, but… I promise I'll use my safe word if I have to," Otis said. "I won't let things get to the point they did last night. I'll stop if anything gets too much for me. I promise. I'll say 'flamingo'." He sighed. "But I want to take a step forward. I don't want to get stuck. I don't want slow to become still. Or reverse. I don't… Oh, I don't know, Maeve. I don't want you to think… I want it to be you… I'm not just… I mean, maybe it is a mistake to try so soon…"

"Shhh, Otis," Maeve said gently. "You're overthinking it. You don't have to justify yourself to me, just… be kind to yourself. Don't push yourself beyond anything you can't handle and let me deal with my end. I know what could happen now."

Otis stared at her for a long time then whispered, "I love you, Maeve."

Maeve smiled. "I know."

"I have an erection."

Maeve smiled. "I know."

* * *

**Author's Notes: I think you can guess what the rest of those 2500 words involved. I'm still not certain if I'll use them in the next chapter – I just think that step is too soon - but most of them will get used eventually. Or at least a version of them.**

**At least now I can start afresh and let the story take me where it wants to go. These words are out there now and I can't make wholesale changes to them. That would be cheating. **

**I will try not to take so long for the next chapter.**


	16. Chapter 16

**Author's Notes: I'm sorry. I'm struggling. Inspiration seems to be missing at the moment so I'm scraping the story together as best I can. Now the new season is coming, maybe I'll be inspired again.**

**(Update April 2020: Added sequence at end. See end notes for further details.)**

* * *

**Chapter 16**

Otis took a deep breath as Maeve snuggled closer against him on the couch, her shoulder pressing against his. He noted her glance down at the blanket crumpled across his lap before raising her gaze to his eyes and he was sure his erection became even harder. He wasn't exactly certain how that was possible since this had been the hardest he had ever felt but he was sure it had happened.

"I've had it since I woke up," he said quietly, returning her gaze.

"Is that why you didn't want to sleep in the bed with me?" she asked gently.

He nodded slightly. "It was a possibility. I don't always get one. I was thinking I probably wouldn't after last night but I didn't want to risk it. I didn't know how I'd handle it if I did."

"You didn't panic about it?" Maeve asked quietly.

Otis shook his head. "No." He glanced down at his lap. "I woke up and I was thinking about all the good things about last night and I realised it was there and…" His voice trailed off. This had been so much easier inside his head while he had been lying down before Maeve woke up.

"You started playing with it," Maeve said with a gentle smile, "thinking about how you should have gone with Ola."

"I was thinking about you," Otis said earnestly before seeing her smirk.

"Should bloody well hope so," she said.

"It's starting to feel natural."

"It is natural."

"It felt so good."

"I'm glad."

"But I wanted to feel your hand."

Otis could hear how much desire had been in his voice and as Maeve gently smiled at him, letting him see that desire mirrored in her eyes, he wished he felt strong enough to lean over and kiss her and gently guide her to lie down on the couch as he moved to be on top of and then inside her.

But he wasn't strong enough.

"I know I'm not ready for sex," he said, looking away and down at his lap. "I mean, actual intercourse. But… I was lying there… masturbating… thinking about seeing a therapist and I realised that it will probably take a while before… before I'm healed and I was thinking about what we could do in the meantime. I don't want to step right back…"

His voice faded away as a soft look of frustration crossed his face.

"It's okay, Otis," Maeve said quietly, gently touching his arm. "You don't have to justify being horny."

Otis nodded. "I'll keep getting them. I'll wake up with them. We'll be kissing and I'll be thinking about how wonderful it feels and I'll get one. We'll be engaged in… other things and I'll get one."

He realised how that sounded and looked quickly at her.

"That's if you're willing to engage—"

"I'm willing," Maeve said soothingly.

"I don't want to force you into anything," Otis continued. "Emotional blackmail. Make you feel obliged-"

"Don't fucking start that again, squirrel," Maeve said softly. "I'm not going to do anything I don't want to do. You know that."

Otis nodded and sighed, "I know."

"I want to touch it," she said after a moment. "After last night, I thought maybe you would want to step back for a bit. I thought I might want to step back for a bit. Not risk it. But I dreamt about you – about us – and I woke up horny, too."

Otis wondered what she had been dreaming about them.

"I'm not pushing you, Otis. I never want either of us to experience again what happened last night. But maybe we should try. Get back on the horse that threw us. If it gets too much then you can go and… alphabetize your music collection."

Otis scrunched his face. "I don't think that's going to work as a euphemism if I really actually do it."

"Flog your bishop. Stroke your salami. Stir the batter."

"Empty the cache?"

"Whatever."

Not for the first time, Otis felt amazed at how lucky he was to have Maeve fall in love with him as he did with her. Amazed at how kind and patient she could be. Amazed at how much she understood about him outside the damage lingering from his childhood experiences and amazed at how quickly she was incorporating her newer knowledge into her insights.

They would have to do this sometime if their relationship was going to progress and he was going to heal and the sheer fucking horniness he felt seemed to make this the perfect time to try.

He knew his coping techniques had been (mostly) working the night before and if Maeve had not surprised him he was sure he would have been able to make her come again and then they could have slowly tried exactly what they were both wanting to try now.

He still had his coping techniques available, they both knew the consequences of pushing too far too quickly, they were both horny and he had to deal with it one way or the other. Why not this way?

He wondered if he was being selfish, focussing solely on himself.

"Do you want me to touch you first?" he asked.

He could see she was tempted to say yes - and he understood in that moment exactly how horny she was – but instead she murmured, "Not now. We'll get around to mutual."

Otis nodded and studied her face for a moment then took a deep breath and reached down to remove the blanket from his lap, keeping his eye on Maeve as she saw him for the first time, poking through the opening in his boxers.

He watched her run her eyes the length of him, taking a few moments to stare before looking back into his eyes, gentle smile on her lips.

"Told you it was a decent-sized cock," she said, biting her lip seductively and ostentatiously glancing down again then back at his eyes. "More than decent. More than fit for purpose."

Otis realised he must have had a goofy smile on his lips as Maeve rolled her eyes.

"God, you guys," she said, shaking her head in gentle amusement. "Flatter your cock and you're all FIGJAM."

"Figjam?" Otis asked.

"Fuck I'm Good, Just Ask Me."

Otis smiled then asked, in a voice raw with a combination of dread and anticipation, "Would you touch it?"

Maeve nodded and quietly said, "I'll be gentle. Just my fingers, okay?"

Otis nodded and began taking slow deep breaths, preparing himself for the feel of her touch as a memory of the feelings he had when Lily touched his penis flashed through his mind. He understood this was different, that he really hadn't wanted Lily touching his penis and he really did want Maeve touching it, but he knew he could not relax for the moment. Relaxing would come. Next time. Or the time after.

"And if your cock explodes," Maeve continued, "don't worry about it. We're not trying for a marathon here."

The way her voice was affecting him, Otis wondered if he could explode without either one of them touching any part of him.

He watched as she gently brought her hand down and softly touched his delicate skin. He gave a soft gasp and stared at her fingers on his penis.

"You okay?" she asked.

Otis nodded. "Yeah," he said.

"Sure?"

"Feels good."

He wasn't lying. She wasn't doing anything, just resting her fingers at his base, one gently touching his scrotum, but he hadn't panicked. Hadn't had a flash of an unpleasant memory. Was simply aware of another's person's hand upon him and understanding there was nothing wrong with that since they both wanted it.

"I'll just stroke it a little, okay?" Maeve murmured.

"Okay," Otis said and drew in a breath as Maeve slowly whispered her fingers along him, making him feel as if he really was going to explode. He felt himself gently clenching his butt cheeks as if wanting to push himself harder against her touch.

"How's that?" Maeve asked quietly.

"Good," he said hoarsely, anticipating how it would feel when her fingers reached his glans.

She stopped before she reached the tip then slowly whispered her fingers back down his length and he wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed that the moment had been delayed.

"You still feeling okay? None of those feelings you were telling me about happening?" Maeve asked.

"I don't think so," Otis murmured as her fingers gently moved across his balls then slowly began traversing his length again.

"Good," Maeve said as she continued softly, slowly stroking him.

It was technically true. A lawyer's answer, as Eric would say. Otis had a flash of his father in his office standing between the legs of a woman Otis hadn't recognised and had a flicker of Lily standing in her bra and pants before him with her hand on his penis but there were no feelings behind either memory.

The feeling of Maeve's fingers gently stroking his sensitive skin overrode everything.

"Now I'm just going run my fingers all around your shaft, okay?" she continued, then Otis saw her suddenly frown and look at him with concern. "Do you want me to keep doing this?"

"Yes," Otis breathed, hoping Maeve wasn't going to stop, afraid she would.

"No. I mean, telling you what I'm going to do?"

Otis gazed into her eyes. "Keep doing it. I like it. It's helping."

"Okay," Maeve nodded, gently smiling, and looked down again. Otis felt her fingers gently stroke the sides of his shaft, tenderly moving underneath, the back of them whispering across his stomach, making him feel as if any second he would explode and this gloriousness would be over.

He didn't want it to be over.

He gave a soft moan and hitched a breath then returned to focussed breathing as Maeve's fingers continued their gentle caress.

"You like?" she asked softly.

"Yes," he whispered.

"Good," continued Maeve gently. "Now I'm going to wrap my hand around you and squeeze you and stroke you, okay?"

Otis nodded and lay his head back against the lounge, eyes closed.

"God, Maeve," he said as she wrapped her hand around him, his hips raising involuntarily to slide himself through her fingers.

There was just no comparison to how his own hand had felt and he was certain just a few more strokes and he would be finished.

"Okay, so now I'm going to move up to your helmet and stroke your blowhole," she said quietly.

Otis opened his eyes and lifted his head and grimaced. "Blowhole?"

"What do you call it?" Maeve asked, looking at him.

"My urinary meatus?"

Maeve nodded and looked down at her hand stroking him. "Okay, so now I'm going to move up to your helmet and stroke your blowhole," she said blandly.

Otis smiled in defeat and dropped his head back against the lounge, closing his eyes again, breathing steadily as Maeve's hand continued.

Then he felt her hand slide across his ridge, enfolding his tip in her palm and his stomach fell away and whiteness filled his vision and his hips bucked pushing him slightly upwards and then—

"Flamingo! Flamingo!" he cried, sitting up straight.

Maeve snatched her hand away and looked at him with concern as he held his arms out before himself, staring into the middle distance, trying to bring his breathing under control.

"Are you okay?" she asked, concerned. "Are you panicking?"

"Sensitive," he managed to get out between breaths.

"What?"

"Sensitive," he repeated, slumping back against the lounge as his breathing steadied. "I never felt this sensitive when…"

"When it was your own hand?"

Otis nodded. "Uh-huh."

"Okay, maybe we should stop," Maeve said.

"No," Otis said quickly, looking at her. "I want…"

He stared at her, seeing the concern on her face and for a moment he thought that maybe they should stop. It was probably the smart thing to do. Yet he didn't want to.

Maeve's hand felt so glorious stroking him and he just needed to become used to the feeling of it on his glans. He had not technically panicked and he was not deliberately ignoring the fact that the feeling in his stomach resembled the feelings he had when he thought of his mother yelling at and throwing things at his father. He was just sensitive. He was just inexperienced.

"I was just startled. I'm prepared now," he said.

Maeve studied him and Otis noticed her hesitation and acknowledged he really was being selfish.

"It's okay, Maeve. We don't—"

"I'll try," she said, soothingly. "I'll try. As long as you're sure."

"I'd like you to try," Otis said.

Maeve nodded and slowly reached her hand down to enfold his helmet, rubbing her palm gently along his ridge and stroking his blowhole with her thumb.

"Flamingo!" Otis said and Maeve snatched her hand away as he sat forward again, breathing deeply to calm himself as memories of his father pushed aside memories of masturbating in the toilet block before surrendering to memories of the room spinning after Lily touched his cock.

"Otis…?" Maeve asked, concerned.

"I'm sorry," Otis said.

"Stop apologising," Maeve said flatly.

"I'm sorry," he repeated, breathing slowing.

"Are you okay?" she asked gently.

"I will be. I just…"

Otis took in a slow deep breath then sighed it out, leaning his head back against the lounge and turning to look at Maeve.

"I don't think I can tell the difference between pleasure and panic," he said, forlornly. "It felt so good when you were stroking me and I didn't feel anything bad but when you grabbed my glans and stroked my mea— blowhole… I'm not sure if I was feeling so good it was almost painful or…"

His voice trailed away as soft frustration filled his face again.

"It's okay, muppet," she said, touching his arm gently.

"I don't think I can try again this morning," he said, sadly.

"Yeah, some other time. But you did it. You let me touch it. You took another step."

"Not much of one," Otis muttered.

"It was a step forward. Be proud of yourself."

Otis thought for a moment then nodded, saying, "Mum said I should claim the little victories when I can."

Maeve smiled to herself and said, "Not a little victory."

Otis took a moment to understand then chuckled. "Figjam."

Otis watched Maeve glance down at his erection and could see disappointment flicker across her face before she looked back at him and asked, "So do you think it will go away by itself?"

"It could take a while."

"Do you think you can finish yourself off?"

Otis looked at her. "You mean here?"

"If you like. You can go into the bathroom if you want."

Otis kept staring at her for a moment then glanced down at himself before looking back at her.

"I'm not sure I can do it with you watching."

"It's okay."

"Not yet."

"I understand."

"I'm sorry."

Maeve sighed. "If you're going to keep apologising, I'm going to… take your photo and tell Aimee she can come over and kiss you. While she's naked."

Otis gave her a rueful smile and nodded, swallowing. "I'll try to stop."

"Good," Maeve murmured. "Now go into the bathroom and take care of it."

Otis nodded and reached down to push himself back inside his boxers then looked back at Maeve, noticing that she seemed a little antsy.

It took him a moment to realise.

"Are you going to be…?" He shrugged and gestured vaguely and glanced down at the hem of her shirt as it met her legs before he raised his gaze to look into her eyes.

Maeve smiled shyly. "Gilding the lily? Yeah."

Otis hitched a breath.

Maeve bit her lip. "I told you. I'm horny, too. So if you don't want to see my cookie just yet, better check before you come out."

* * *

Otis flushed the toilet and washed and wiped his hands then stared into his eyes in the mirror, a mixture of emotions flooding through him.

He felt good. Relaxed. Considering how Maeve's touch had made him feel, he wasn't certain if he would have been able to mastur—wank himself to completion but after a moment's hesitation he was lost in the moment as he had been those handful of times since Maeve had kissed him beside their wall.

He did feel good. Mellow. Yet there was also an underlying sadness washing through him that he only partly understood.

His own hand had been doing only that which Maeve's hand had been doing yet not once had he experienced any of those feelings that went through him either time she had wrapped her hand around his glans.

In the fantasy images he invoked as he… wanked… she was sometimes with him, standing naked behind him, bare breasts pressed against his back and it was her hand stroking him, her hand bringing him to completion.

Why could he have her with him in his fantasy while he was unable to relax into reality with her?

He understood it was - Lily aside - the first time somebody else had touched his penis – at least under these circumstances – and from recent experience he knew it would probably be easier the next time they tried but that still didn't seem to mollify him.

His… issues… had led to him missing out on so much.

That kiss they never had in the pool because her gentle fingers softly stroking his cheeks had given him a boner he had no ability to handle either physically or emotionally.

The kiss they never had on the bridge because the tender longing in her eyes and her gentle move to press her lips against his prompted unbidden thoughts of his father fucking his patient and his mother throwing her favourite cup against the wall by the man's head.

The mutual masturbation session of last night that was destroyed before it could even begin.

This morning.

His words to Eric the day of his first kiss with Maeve never rang truer. He was so fucked up.

Otis sighed and stepped back from the mirror, turning toward the door, before remembering Maeve's warning.

He wondered how long he had been in here. He seemed to lose track of time when he painted the ceiling but then again he had no idea how long Maeve normally took to polish her canoe.

Another thing he had missed out on seeing because he was so fucked up.

Never mind the things Maeve had missed out on.

This was so unfair to her. She deserved so much more. However kind and caring she was being with him – and he understood it was her choice – she was still deserving of so much more than he was currently able to offer her.

He sighed again and opened the bathroom door.

* * *

Otis stopped at the doorway to the living area of the caravan, keeping his gaze facing away from the area containing the lounge.

"I've finished," he said. "Are you…?"

"Sprawled naked on the lounge with my legs wide open waiting for you," Maeve said from across the room.

The soft purr in her voice let Otis know she had also finished and he smiled to himself and stepped forward, gazing at her lying spread along the lounge, still wearing her night shirt and watching him gently.

She looked gorgeous and very relaxed and seemed to possess none of the melancholy that was still washing through him.

"Disappointed?" she asked.

"No," he said then realised that wasn't true. "A little," he corrected.

"Do you want to see?" Maeve asked, gently biting her lip.

Otis could see she was wanting to show him and he really was tempted then he noticed her pants lying on the carpet by the leg of the coffee table and his breath hitched.

"What's wrong?" Maeve asked.

Otis turned his gaze to her and was silent for a stunned moment then said, "Not yet."

He could see disappointment flicker briefly across her face but all she did was nod and say, "I thought about it. But then I realised I'm mean, not cruel."

"I do want to see you naked, Maeve," Otis said, quietly.

"I know," Maeve said. "When you're ready."

Otis stayed in place, watching her, wondering why he was so reluctant to see her naked in real life when she was now spending so much time naked in his dreams and fantasies.

"So you just going to stand there for the rest of the morning? Wanking doesn't make me radioactive," Maeve said.

Otis came back to himself – "Sorry." - then walked over to her. Maeve started to sit up but he waved her back – "No, no." – then sat on the floor in the lounge corner, leaning back.

Maeve looked at him curiously for a moment then shuffled along the lounge a little so they were level before rolling onto her side and replacing the pillow beneath her head.

"What's wrong?" she asked quietly.

"Nothing," Otis murmured.

"Honesty, Otis," she said gently but firmly.

Otis nodded and turned to stare at her for a moment before sighing. "I wish I wasn't so fucked up."

Maeve sighed in return. "What can I do to make you stop putting yourself down?"

Otis dropped his head and shrugged. "Yell at me?"

Maeve leant forward and waited until Otis raised his head to look at her.

"Stop fucking putting yourself down, dickhead," she mock-growled.

Otis smiled sadly and nodded. "I'll do my best to curb my negative self-talk."

"You better," Maeve said, settling back and watching him gently.

Otis shuffled position and rested his head against the lounge to gaze directly into her eyes.

"I don't know what's wrong," he said quietly. "It felt so good while I was… wanking… but when I was finished I felt so… down. Sad. Melancholy."

"_Post-coital tristesse_," Maeve murmured.

Otis frowned. "What?"

"Sadness after sex. '_After the enjoyment of sensual pleasure is past, the greatest sadness follows_.'"

Otis looked curiously at her.

"Spinoza," she said. "It's a common phenomenon. Can even happen after great sex."

"Mum and dad never mentioned it to me."

"I looked it up. I get it sometimes. Not now," she hurriedly amended. "Now I feel great. But sometimes. Doesn't even matter how good or bad the sex was. It happens."

Otis stared at her in wonder. "You're amazing," he said.

"I know," Maeve smirked.

"Maybe you could be a sex therapist, too."

"Get real."

Otis was silent for a moment. "That was good how you were talking me through it. It really helped."

"My version of dirty talk for you," Maeve murmured with another smirk.

"I found it hot."

"I can talk much dirtier," she almost purred.

Otis gazed at her as the sadness washed through him again then he said, "I hope it doesn't take too long before I'm ready to hear it."

Maeve studied him gently for a moment then asked, "Do you know what made you sad?"

Otis lowered his gaze and said, "I wish I could have stayed out here with you. I wish I wasn't making things so much harder for you. I wish this could be what you wanted it to be. I wish I could be the person who could just kiss you and touch you and make love with you when you wanted me to-" He scrunched his face and looked at her. "Sorry, '_fuck you_' when you wanted me to."

"_Make love_'s okay if you need to say it," Maeve said quietly then smirked. "Pumpkin. Honeybear. _Mon cher_."

Otis smiled gently at her. "My sweet."

Maeve gazed at him softly for a moment then raised her hand and gently stroked his cheek with the back of her fingers.

"It's not your fault, Otis," she murmured. "It's never been your fault. _'They fuck you up, your mum and dad/They may not mean to, but they do./They fill you with the faults they had/And add some extra, just for you.'_"

Otis snorted a gentle chuckle.

"What?" Maeve asked, quizzically.

"Those are the exact words I was thinking last night. Before… while I had my fingers inside you. I was trying to keep myself calm and those words came up."

Maeve smiled gently. "Another sign we really connect?"

Otis felt his sadness deepen. There was so much of him that wanted her, deeply and completely. So much of him that wanted to give to her, passionately and unreservedly. But these fucking feelings and thoughts in his head kept getting in the way.

He made a guttural sound, annoyed with himself and said, "I hope it doesn't take too long to find a therapist I click with."

"What do you mean?"

"Not every therapist can help every patient. Not everyone clicks. I need to find one who can speak to me in ways I can hear and hears everything I'm actually saying. It may take a while."

"I'm here with you while you do," Maeve murmured.

"Thank you," he said, keeping his gaze on her eyes, hoping she could see how much he truly loved her.

Maeve leaned forward, lips parting and Otis met her for a tender kiss that lasted until-

His stomach growled.

Maeve broke the kiss, smiling.

"I think you need breakfast," she said.

"Yeah," said Otis, sheepishly.

"And then we need to figure out what we're going to do today."

"What do you want to do?" Otis asked.

"I don't know. What do you want to do?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. What do you want to do?"

"Stop that, squirrel."

"Whatever you say, chipmunk."

His stomach growled again.

Maeve rolled onto her back and grinned. "Have breakfast, muppet. We'll think of something."

* * *

Otis ran frantically along the country lane leading to the closest bus stop to town, hearing Maeve panting breathlessly close behind him.

"We're going to miss it," Otis panted.

"I offered you the chance to share a shower. We would have been there by now," Maeve panted.

"I was five minutes."

"And we have less than five minutes before the bus gets there."

"Oh, no," said Otis as they were close enough to see the bus stop and the bus pulling away.

"Shit," said Maeve.

"It's early," protested Otis.

"Call him up and tell him," said Maeve, slowing her run to a walk.

Otis slowed down and waited for Maeve to reach him. "I'm sorry."

"Are you sure you had the right time?"

As they reached the bus stop, Otis walked over to look at the timetable. "Oh, that's the wrong day. I had Sunday's timetable in my head. I normally go over to Southclyde on Sundays."

"Dickhead," Maeve said. "When's the next bus?"

Otis sighed. "An hour."

Maeve sat down on the bus stop seat, catching her breath and Otis sat beside her. He noticed he was no longer feeling as blue as he had been.

"I'm sorry," he said.

Maeve glanced sideways at him but didn't respond.

"So what do you want to do now?" he asked.

"Go off into the bushes and shag," she said, blandly.

"You would have sex in public?" Otis sounded surprised.

"We'd be in the bushes. Who'd see us? A couple of foxes?"

"I don't think we have foxes around here."

Maeve studied him for a moment, then said quietly, "You didn't freak out."

"Are you testing me?" he asked with a knowing smile.

"No, just horny," she said, leaning against him and playfully kissing him on the lips.

They settled into silence for a while before Maeve spoke.

"Are we just going to sit here for an hour until the next bus comes?" she asked.

"We could start walking. Do you feel like walking?"

Maeve thought a moment, then said, "Not just yet."

She reached into her bag and took out a book, looked at it then scrunched her nose and shook her head then began to put it back into her bag.

"What's that?" Otis asked.

Maeve handed him the book and he studied the cover. _The Last Man_ by Mary Shelley.

"I didn't know she wrote anything else," he said, surprised.

"She wrote quite a bit," Maeve said. "Most people just remember _Frankenstein_."

Otis read from the cover blurb. "'Mary Shelley's neglected masterpiece tells of a future laid waste by plague.'"

"It's thought to be the first true post-apocalyptic science fiction novel."

"So she basically created two main strands of science fiction?"

"Pretty impressive for a girl of that time."

"It is," Otis said, starting to hand the book back. He stopped as a small piece of paper slipped from it and fluttered to the ground.

He gave the book to Maeve then leant over, grabbed the piece of paper and raised it to his eyes.

Maeve watched him, curiously, as he read aloud.

"_'I have love in me the likes of which you can scarcely imagine and rage the likes of which you would not believe. If I cannot satisfy the one, I will indulge the other.'_"

Otis stared at the paper for a moment then took a deep breath as he looked at Maeve and handed it back to her. She took the paper, slipped it back into the book and returned the book to her bag.

"You identify with the monster?" Otis asked quietly.

Maeve shrugged. "You said I was scary," she said.

Otis reached out and gently took her hand. "Very scary," he said, leaning closer to her, lips parting.

"You have no idea," Maeve said, closing her eyes and meeting his lips with hers.

When the kiss was over, Otis kept staring into her eyes. "He wasn't only scary," he murmured.

"Only some people can see that," Maeve murmured.

Otis leant forward and kissed her again then leant back against the bus stop seat and lifted his arm to allow Maeve to slide next to him. When she had snuggled in, he let his arm gently drape across her shoulder.

"I hope it's the love you're trying to satisfy," he eventually said.

Maeve smiled knowingly to herself. "You might think that. I couldn't possibly comment."

She rested her hand gently on his chest and they sat in silence for a while.

"So what are we going to do when we get to Southclyde?" Maeve eventually asked. "Apart from food?"

"I don't know. I was only thinking of lunch. We could walk down the boulevard. See the acts at the mall."

"We could go to a movie."

"Can you afford it? I mean, I'm willing to pay for that, too, I just—"

"I know the best door to sneak in by."

"Sneak in without paying?" Otis asked, alarmed.

"Yeah," Maeve smiled. "You still have to do something you're not supposed to since Ola caught you with the chocolate bar."

"I'll get caught. You know I'll get caught. I'm just no good at that sort of thing. I freaked out when I only had a pound to donate at the British Museum even though it's voluntary."

"Don't worry. You're with an expert now. I'll guide you."

Maeve smiled mischievously up at him and after a moment Otis' worried frown slowly morphed into a nervous grimace.

"You really are a scary woman to know, Maeve Wiley."

"I'm a pussycat, Otis."

"In the same way Cujo was a puppy?"

"Who's Cujo?" Maeve asked, puzzled.

"He was a good boy."

Maeve sighed. "You can pay for me if you want to," she said and felt him relax against her.

"We'll have to get your and Aimee's cigarettes as well," he said.

"Yeah."

"And maybe we could stay over there for dinner. Go dancing like we said."

"I was supposed to wear my ball dress for that."

"Oh, yeah," said Otis, glumly.

Maeve frowned as her phone rang.

"Maybe we could do something else around here and go over to Southclyde tonight," Otis said as Maeve reached into her bag.

"Maybe," Maeve said as she took the phone out of her bag and looked at the caller ID.

Otis saw her frown before standing and raising the phone to her ear, starting to pace.

"Hello," she said and listened.

"Why?" she asked and listened.

"Today?" she asked and listened.

Otis watched as she turned to him, concern on her face.

"Yeah, I can do it," Maeve said as she turned away again. "What time?"

Otis frowned as Maeve listened again.

"I'll need a lift," Maeve said then listened again.

"I'm not at home at the moment. Give me forty minutes and I'll be ready," Maeve said and listened once more.

"Great," Maeve said and lowered the phone, turning to Otis.

"I'm sorry," she said, apologetically. "That was someone from work. Something's come up and she needs someone to cover her shift."

"Oh," said Otis.

"I'm sorry. I need the money."

"It's okay," he said, concealing his disappointment as best he could.

"We can go to Southclyde next weekend."

"You're working as well tomorrow?" he asked.

"Yeah. Both weekend shifts."

"Okay, yeah, we can do something next weekend," he said, nodding.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't—it's okay," Otis said.

"Thanks," Maeve said, picking up her bag and putting her arm through the strap, settling it on her shoulder.

Otis stood. "Do you want me to come back with you?"

Maeve shook her head. "I know the way home by myself."

Otis nodded and Maeve stepped to him, gave him a quick kiss on the lips. "I'm sorry," she said. "I was looking forward to it."

"Next weekend," Otis said as she walked away.

"Yeah," Maeve said over her shoulder.

Otis watched her take a few more steps then had an idea and called, "What time does your shift end?"

"Six."

"Do you want to come over for dinner? I can cook something. Show you mum wasn't overselling me."

Maeve stopped and turned. "You just want to see me in my uniform."

"I want to cook for you," Otis said, not quite convincingly.

"Forget it. No way."

Maeve smiled at his forlorn expression and relented.

"I can be there before seven," she said.

"Great," Otis said, cheering up. "Anything you prefer?"

"Surprise me," Maeve said.

"Okay."

"Sorry. I've got to go," Maeve said and turned and hurried away.

He watched until she was out of sight then sighed and started walking toward home, hoping his mum would have some suggestions as to what would be best to cook.

* * *

Otis was at the top of the stairs leading down to his house when his phone beeped.

Curious, he took the phone out of his pocket and saw Maeve had sent him a message.

When he saw the photo of her standing in front of her full-length mirror wearing her bright yellow Speedy Grill shirt, her phone in one hand, giving him the finger with the other, he thought his smile was going to split his face.

She looked so gorgeous.

**You look like a banana**, he texted her.

**Fuck you**, she texted back.

He hesitated a moment, then texted, **Eric's gonna love this**

**Don't you dare**

**You look gorgeous**

**Stop objectifying me**

**I'm appreciating**

**Satisfied now**

**Very**

**Thought you'd like it**

**I love it**

**You can take a better one tonight**

**Thank you**

**Just don't show anyone**

**I won't**

**Gotta go**

**Hope work's okay**

**See you tonight**

**See you**

**Love you, babe**

**Love you, bananacake**

**Fuck you**

* * *

Otis closed the front door behind himself and called, "Mum?"

When there was no answer, he walked over to the fridge and started looking through it, wondering what he could cook for tonight.

He heard footsteps on the stairs and looked up to see his mother walking towards him holding up a dress on a hanger in each hand.

"I haven't worn either of these in years. I think they still fit. Which do you think would look best on me?"

Otis closed the fridge door and studied each of the two dresses. "Why are you asking me?"

"Well, because you're a man and I was wanting a man's perspective."

Otis studied her for a moment. "You have never asked me what dress to wear on a date."

"Oh, I'm sure I must have," Jean said as she studied the dresses.

"Never."

"So you're not going to give your opinion?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"What if I get it wrong and Ola's dad prefers the other one? You're on your own, mum."

"Cowardice doesn't become you, Otis," Jean said as she walked away to ascend the stairs, not seeing the effect her offhand words had on her son.

Otis turned back to the fridge and looked inside. After a few moments, he frowned and closed it and walked out to the balcony. As he sat down, he took his phone from his pocket and began searching for dinner suggestions.

A few minutes later, Jean emerged from the house onto the balcony and sat down at the table end and placed a glass of juice beside herself.

"Did you and Maeve have a good night?" she asked after a moment.

She noticed Otis tensing slightly before saying, "A pretty good night. Interesting."

Jean hesitated before saying, "I hope you were using condoms."

Otis took in a deep breath, his jaw clenching but he said nothing and kept his eyes on his phone.

"I know you think I'm prying but pregnancy is not something either of you need to deal with at this time in your lives."

"Believe me, mum," Otis said in a controlled voice, "Maeve and I both understand the importance of protection."

"I'm glad," Jean said quietly then settled into silence, sipping from her juice.

After a few moments, Otis sighed and put his phone in his pocket and looked at his mother.

"I know you mean well, mum. I'm sorry."

"I just… want you to have a good life, Otis," Jean said quietly.

Otis nodded then said, "You really like Ola's dad, don't you? I mean, really like him."

"What makes you say that?"

"Because you asked me which dress you should wear."

Jean smiled to herself. "Yes, I do like him. He's… I think Jakob's the first man since your father that I… wanted more than a second cup of coffee with."

Otis frowned. "That's a strange way of saying it."

"It's a thing between me and your father."

"Does Jakob remind you of dad?" Otis asked after a moment.

There was an edge in Jean's voice as she said, "Not in the slightest."

Otis registered her tone and fell silent for a while but mention of his father had prompted a train of thought.

"Is dad a good therapist?" he asked.

Jean looked at him curiously. "Why do you ask?"

"Just wondering."

Jean stared at him without speaking.

"Just something he said," Otis said with a shrug.

"What-?" Jean began then stopped, swallowing her curiosity.

"It doesn't matter, mum. Forget it."

Jean studied her son for a moment. "No, I don't think he is," she said, quietly.

"Why not?"

"He sometimes failed to understand the enormity of his responsibility to his clients. The influence he can have over them."

"You mean—" Otis began, then stopped.

"What?" Jean asked.

"Doesn't matter," Otis said dismissively.

Jean studied him for a moment, then said, "The advice in his later books seems mostly fine, but he has not always been able to follow it himself."

Otis nodded and mumbled, "Thanks."

"Why the interest? Is there something troubling you?"

"I can deal," Otis said, taking his phone from his pocket and standing.

"Otis…?" Jean asked, concerned.

"I've invited Maeve over for dinner," Otis said, ignoring her. "I've got to figure out something to cook. It's only for two, isn't it? You weren't planning on cooking for Jakob, were you?"

"No," Jean said after a moment. "I'll be picking him up at three and probably won't be back till late."

"Okay. Hope it's a good date."

"Probably best for it to be just the two of you this time."

Otis smiled sheepishly. "Yeah. Was weird inviting her to meet you on our first date."

"I don't know. I think she seemed to like it. Demonstrated that you are a unique person with the possibility of doing the pleasingly unexpected."

"Maeve just says I'm odd. Compellingly odd," Otis said with a smile and turned and walked inside.

Jean took a sip and stared after him, wondering what was troubling him. Wondering if his night with Maeve hadn't gone quite as well as he indicated. Wondering what on earth Remi had said to him.

* * *

**Author's Notes: I doubt the next chapter will be here before Season 2 starts and I'm sorry for the long gap between the last few chapters but I'll try not to take so long next time.**

**Yes, that is the clinical name for that bit of the penis. Research is fascinating.**

**(Update April 2020: The added sequence was originally the start of Chapter 17. I was going to salvage as much as I could from it for Chapter 21 but re-reading simply heightened my annoyance that I let an important plot beat happen off-screen – the cowardice comment – and only raised it in the past tense during Chapter 17. The story always felt incomplete to me without seeing that actual moment.**

**I liked the beginning of Chapter 17 as is, so I've decided to add to the end of this chapter instead. I did like ending originally on the text message and I hope this addition doesn't destroy that moment, but I always found this a disjointed chapter anyway.**

**As always, I'm doing the best I can. Thank you for your indulgence of me.)**


	17. Chapter 17

**Author's Notes: This has come surprisingly quickly in comparison to the painful process of creating the last few chapters. I just hope it works.**

* * *

**Chapter 17**

Otis opened the door just as the latest peal of the doorbell died away and he stared at Maeve standing on the doorstep, still wearing her Speedy Grill shirt over the maroon striped top he remembered her wearing on the first day of term.

"Sorry, we have enough bananas, thanks," he said.

"Fuck you," Maeve said as she stepped forward and gave him a quick peck on the lips.

"I suppose one more won't go astray."

"That's going to get real old real fast, dickwad," she said, glaring into his eyes.

"Scary woman. Got it," Otis said and stepped aside for her to pass.

"Better believe it," Maeve said, smirking as she walked past him.

They entered the kitchen and Maeve could see the table was partially set for two.

"Jean not here?" Maeve asked.

"No, she has a date with Ola's dad."

"Are they serious?" she asked, curiously.

"I think so. Mum asked me which dress she should wear."

"So?"

"She's never asked me about which dress to wear on a date."

Maeve pursed her lips and nodded. "What's he like?"

"Seems nice. I don't know. Haven't had much to do with him."

"So Ola really _is_ going to be your step-sister." She smirked. "Greg."

Otis scrunched his face. "Don't start that again."

"How do you feel about that? Having a step-dad?"

Otis frowned. "I hadn't thought about it."

"And Ola being here when I come over?"

"Um…"

"Freaked out yet?"

"No," said Otis, unconvincingly.

Maeve smirked again and put her bag down on a chair then turned to Otis, holding the hem of her shirt, frowning.

"Do you mind if I wash this? Some idiot spilt mayo on it."

"Sure. Give it to me. I'll put it in the machine."

"Take your photo first. The stain shouldn't show up."

Otis frowned then remembered. "Oh, I left my phone upstairs."

"Use mine. I'll send it to you."

Maeve reached into her bag and took out her phone and handed it to Otis. He took it and swiped then held it out to her.

"You need to unlock it," he said.

"'Clinic17'."

Otis typed, frowning. "You shouldn't tell me your PIN."

Maeve shrugged. "I trust you."

"Got it," Otis said, holding up the phone.

"How do you want me? Natural, or porn star pose?"

"Natural," Otis said, firmly.

Maeve smirked and glanced around then walked over to lean against the bench by the sink, tilting her head and smiling defiantly at him.

"Say 'banana'," he said and took the photo.

"Fuck you," Maeve said then took off her Speedy Grill shirt. "Remind me to take it with me when I leave," she said, handing it to Otis as he handed her the phone.

"I'll hang it up where we can see it," he said as he put the shirt in the machine, added a small dose of laundry liquid and pressed 'start'.

When he turned back to Maeve, she was watching him with a small smile flickering across her lips.

"What?" he asked.

"You looked really sexy doing that," she said softly.

Otis frowned in puzzlement.

Maeve shrugged. "You have your turn-ons. I have mine."

Otis smiled shyly and Maeve walked across to him, put her arms around him and reached up to kiss him. She had spent all day missing this.

"So what are we having for dinner?" she asked.

"Lemon butter chicken breasts. I thought something simple."

"Sounds nice."

"Just got a few minutes more prep and then I can start cooking. They don't take long."

"Do you mind if I have a shower first? Borrow some of your clothes? I'm kinda sweaty."

"Sure. Towels are in the tall built-in next to the bathroom."

Maeve kissed him again then looked directly into his eyes and asked, with a soft smirk on her face, "Do you want to come up and talk to me? I don't mean outside the door."

Otis drew in a soft breath and kept his gaze connected to Maeve's. "I still have to do some prep. I'll start cooking when you're finished."

Maeve studied him curiously then nodded and released him. "Won't be long," she murmured.

* * *

Otis straightened the plates and cutlery on the bench for the third time, wondering how long she would be, then he heard soft footsteps on the stairs and turned to watch her walk down wearing one of his over-sized grey t-shirts and darker grey loose shorts. He wondered if she was wearing pants underneath.

Maeve walked over to him, softly smiling. "That feels better," she said and studied the contents of the plates on the bench. "What's first?"

"I can do it, you just—" Otis began then saw disappointment flicker across her face. "Um, actually, you can slice the lemons. Thinnish slices. I'll just pop these in."

Maeve smiled softly to herself and grabbed a lemon and a sharp knife and began to slice. Otis picked up a chicken breast and placed it in the pan with the simmering butter. He turned the heat up a fraction.

"They look really nice," Maeve said.

"Very easy to cook," said Otis. "Stuck strictly with the recipe tonight. Thought of using olive oil instead of butter – less saturated fat – but we've run out."

"Butter's fine."

"There's some rice in the steamer there. I'll put it in bowls for each of us once we're cooking the chicken and lemon together."

"This looks really good, Otis. Thanks for asking me over. I would have probably just thrown some noodles in the pot if I was at home."

"Mum's actually right," Otis said. "You should cook nice meals for yourself a little more often. I know money's tight, but I can teach you some really cheap meals that taste fantastic."

Maeve put the lemon slices on a plate and grabbed another lemon. "Did she say anything about last night?"

"She thinks we slept together."

"Did you tell her we didn't?" Maeve asked, quietly.

Otis shook his head. "Just let her think it."

He flipped the chicken pieces in the pan then frowned, took a small breath.

"Are you going to tell Aimee about-?" he began, tentatively.

"No fucking way," said Maeve, almost shocked he would ask.

Otis gave her a look of regretful apology.

"I mean, she'll ask what we did," Maeve continued. "I'll tell her about your magic fingers."

Otis smiled shyly at her.

"She'll probably ask me to let her try you out for herself," Maeve said blandly.

Otis scrunched his face. "Does she mean it? That thing with the kissing?"

Maeve shrugged. "I don't think so. She's with Steve and I've never known her to cheat on anybody and I don't think she'll dump him for you."

Otis nodded, letting out a small breath.

Maeve looked up at him, smirking. "You seem disappointed. So you want to sleep with your step-sister _and_ with my best friend?"

"I do _not_ want to sleep with Ola and Aimee," Otis protested.

"Why not? What's wrong with them?" Maeve asked, blandly.

"There's nothing wrong with them," Otis said, turning red.

"So you _do_ want to sleep with them?" Maeve said, putting the last lot of lemon slices on the separate plate.

"_Maeve_…" Otis almost whined.

Maeve grinned up at him. "You are still so easy, muppet."

Otis shook his head and started removing the chicken breasts from the pan and placing them on a small plate. "Death of me, Maeve Wiley," he muttered. "Death of me."

Maeve ran her eyes across him as he started placing lemon slices in the pan, amazed all over again at how cute he could be when he was flustered.

"So what are you going to tell Eric?" she asked.

"I don't know. I'll have to think of something."

"You can tell him I wanked you off. Don't have to let him know it wasn't all the way."

"He'll probably be going on again about how we broke your bed."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, when I invited you over, he said you'd take one look at mum's art collection and drag me upstairs for so much energetic sex we'd break my bed."

Maeve smirked and glanced around the room before looking back at Otis. She was about to say something but changed her mind and instead said, "You break my bed, you buy me a new one."

"It would be a joint effort," Otis protested.

"Doesn't matter," she said, staring at him thoughtfully.

Otis started to flip the lemon slices in the pan.

Maeve alternated her gaze between the lemon in the pan and the chicken on the plate. "So how much longer? I'm starving."

"Couple of minutes I can put the chicken back in the pan and then it won't be long. You can put the rice in the bowls while we wait."

* * *

Maeve finished the last of her rice and put down her fork and settled back into her chair, staring across at Otis.

"I think your mum was underselling you," she said.

"Oh, this was simple. It was nothing complex," Otis said with a shrug.

"Take the compliment," Maeve said firmly. "Own the victory."

Otis pressed his lips together and nodded. "Thank you," he said.

"I'm thinking what I can cook for you someday."

"I like noodles," Otis said.

Maeve smiled wryly. "It'll be something better than that."

"What meals can you cook?"

"Sean taught me how to do spaghetti carbonara," she said.

"That's nice. I like that," Otis said.

"Okay, spaghetti carbonara. After I get paid."

"There's no rush."

Maeve took a sip of water.

"Oh, do you want some wine?" Otis asked. "Mum still has some open in the fridge from last night. Or I can check if there's beer in the other fridge. I think we still have some."

"You going to have some?"

"Um, probably not."

Maeve shook her head. "Then, nuh."

"Don't let that stop you. If you want to drink—"

Maeve smirked knowingly at him. "You just want to get me drunk so you can take advantage of me."

"I'd never—"

"I know you wouldn't," she murmured.

Otis sighed. "Maybe I should let you get _me_ drunk so you can take advantage of me."

Maeve looked at him, intrigued. "How much do you think it would take?"

"Six bottles of Talisker," Otis said.

"Christ," Maeve laughed. "You'd be in the morgue."

"At least I'd be stiff and unable to faint," Otis said with an uncertain smile.

Maeve laughed in surprise and studied him curiously, then she looked around the table and said, "Let's clear up the table and—" She frowned. "What are we going to do now?"

"Do you want dessert?"

"What do you have?"

"Chocolate mousse. Strawberry cheesecake. They're in packets but they shouldn't take long to thaw. Or there's…" He hesitated. "Banana and caramel ice cream," he said uncertainly.

Maeve set her jaw against a smile. "Strawberry cheesecake sounds nice."

"Great," Otis said, relieved. "I'll get it out."

He stood and hurried to the fridge to remove the cheesecake and place it on the bench.

"Five minutes should be enough. Maybe ten," he said as he turned to see Maeve carrying some dishes to the sink. "Oh, let me do that," he protested.

"You've seen my place," Maeve said. "I need the practice."

Otis smiled gently to himself then walked to the table and grabbed some dishes and carried them to the sink. "Just put them in the sink. Dishwasher needs emptying."

Maeve turned and put her arms around his waist as he reached the sink. He smiled and put the dishes down and let his arms encircle her. She smiled gently up at him.

"Thank you for dinner," she murmured and rose up to kiss him.

"Glad you liked it," Otis murmured.

Maeve held him for a few more moments, smiling gently at him. "Aren't you warm in those trousers?" she murmured.

"You want me to take my trousers off?" he asked, surprised.

"You've got boxers on, haven't you? Not going full commando?"

"I never go full commando," he said with a knowing smile.

"Well?"

He hesitated. "I didn't have a shower since this morning. Let me have a shower first."

"Okay," Maeve said quietly, releasing him.

"Won't be long. Dessert will be ready when I get back."

He started toward the stairs then noticed Maeve moving back toward the table.

"Oh, leave them," he said. "They can wait until I get back down."

"Okay," she said with a shrug, then picked up her drink and took a sip.

Otis nodded and hurried up the stairs. Maeve watched him thoughtfully until he disappeared from sight.

* * *

Otis nervously walked down the stairs as quietly as he could, wearing a light blue t-shirt and his light green boxers that closed with a single button. He had wanted to wear the light blue checked boxers to almost match his shirt but it was still in the wash. He had ignored the two-button boxers. He didn't want two buttons tonight.

He stopped on the mid-point landing and glanced down and made sure he wasn't sticking out. He could see a bit of a bulge and he knew he wasn't completely dormant - he knew that before he put them on - but he wasn't as awake as he had been in the shower.

He swallowed uncertainly. He'd been thinking about this all day – the next time they were together -and he had many, many revelations. Or maybe just one important one. But he was still a little nervous.

Not Lily-style nervous. Not even the nervousness he felt last night. This was a different type of nervousness. This was an anticipatory nervousness but not like the anticipatory nervousness he felt before he and Maeve moved to her bedroom and last night went pear-shaped. This was a new type of anticipation. A new type of nervousness.

That comment from mum had more repercussions than he could ever have thought.

He suddenly felt as if he was being watched and looked up to see Maeve sitting on the lounge, book held in one hand, gently watching him.

He blushed.

"You just going to stand there all night admiring Silent Otis or you gonna come and join me?" she asked.

Otis blushed even more, if that was possible. "Silent Otis?" he asked.

"Well, Little Otis doesn't really fit and I thought calling it Jawbreaker was a bit too soon," she smirked.

If his face got any hotter, Otis knew he would spontaneously combust.

Maeve giggled – no, she never giggled – and jerked her head and said, "Get on over here, muppet."

As an embarrassed Otis walked over to sit beside her, Maeve settled her bookmark in place then put her book down beside herself.

She shuffled position to face him, one leg curled up under herself. "It's okay, muppet. Continuing on from this morning isn't why I wanted you out of those trousers."

Otis looked at her and frowned and Maeve noticed a flicker of almost-disappointment cross his face.

"I just wanted to see your legs," she said.

"My legs?" Otis asked, surprised, and glanced down at his legs spread before him, frowning. "There's nothing special about my legs."

"_Au contraire, mon cher_."

He scrunched his face and looked at Maeve. "You like my legs?"

Maeve nodded and looked down at his legs. "I do," she said.

"Why?"

She shrugged. "Don't know. Just do."

Otis shook his head in puzzlement. "Okay," he said uncertainly.

Maeve studied his face for a moment, then asked quietly, "_Did_ you want to continue on from this morning?"

"Oh, we don't have to," he stammered.

"Do you _want_ to?" she asked softly.

Otis took a breath and looked at her and Maeve was now certain he did but she wasn't surprised or disappointed when he murmured, "Maybe later. Dessert should be thawed out by now."

"Okay," Maeve said as they stood and walked toward the kitchen.

"Let me just—" began Otis then stopped as he saw the table was clear. "Oh, you've done it already." He glanced across at the sink and noticed it was clear also and he realised Maeve must have emptied the dishwasher and packed the clean dishes away.

"Had to kill time," Maeve said. "And I've hung my shirt out."

"Thank you," Otis said appreciatively as he glanced at her yellow shirt hanging up.

Maeve shrugged. "You get the plates and I'll start cutting."

Otis walked to the cupboard to grab two dessert plates while Maeve grabbed a knife and began slicing.

He placed the plates on the bench beside the cheesecake then searched in the drawer for two dessert spoons.

When the slices were on the plates and they each had a spoon, they walked to the table and sat down.

"Ooh, this _is_ good," said Maeve after taking a spoonful.

"This was always my favourite as a kid. Mum would have to stop me sneaking into the fridge and eating the cake at one sitting."

They ate in silence for a few moments then Otis sighed softly.

"What?" Maeve asked.

"I was just thinking. I should tell Eric, shouldn't I? About the thing with my dad."

Maeve looked at him sympathetically. "It's up to you, Otis," she said gently.

"We've been friends since we were nine and I've never said anything about it. I should tell him."

Maeve ate another piece of her cheesecake and watched him silently.

Otis nodded decisively. "I'll tell him on Monday," he said. "I'll tell him something on Monday."

Maeve kept eating her cheesecake in silence until she was sure Otis wasn't going to say anymore.

"So what are we going to do after we finish this?" she eventually asked, indicating the cheesecake.

"We could watch a movie," Otis said. "We have Netflix."

"That'll take too long. I can't stay too late tonight."

"You…" Otis began then continued hesitantly, "You could stay here tonight."

Maeve thought about it then shook her head regretfully. "I'd need to get home in the morning, have a shower, grab new clothes and then get to the bus-stop."

"I can ask mum if she can give you a lift in the morning. She's an early riser."

"Do you think she'll be home tonight?"

"If she isn't, I can get you a cab."

"That's too much. No way," Maeve said firmly.

"You can borrow my bike."

"How will you get to school on Monday?"

"I'll manage."

"That's miles, Otis. I can't see you sitting on Eric's handlebars all that way."

"You don't need to go home. You can go directly to the bus stop from here. It's not too far."

Maeve sighed. "I'll still need a change of clothes."

"Your skirt's okay, isn't it? We can wash your top and… other things."

Maeve shook her head. "That bra won't be dry by morning and I'm not wearing a damp bra again."

"Maybe you can borrow one of mum's."

Maeve gave him a look as if he was an idiot. "We're not all interchangeable, Otis."

"What size are you?" he asked.

Maeve smirked and straightened, pushing out her chest. "What size do you think I am?"

Otis kept his eyes on Maeve's as long as he could before glancing briefly downward. "I don't know," he said, embarrassed, wondering if a minefield had snuck up on him while he wasn't looking.

"34C," she said wryly. "What's your mum's size?"

Otis blinked a few times then said, in a very small voice, "I don't know."

"Thank god for that," Maeve muttered.

"Sorry, I'm pushing," Otis said as he stared down at his cheesecake and raised a spoonful to his mouth.

Maeve watched him silently, gently amused. "You really want me to stay, don't you?" she asked quietly.

"If you can't… It's just… We're not going to see each other at school this week."

Maeve sighed fondly. "Don't tell me you plan on sleeping on the couch."

Otis looked up at her, softly hopeful. "I thought we could… sleep in my bed. It's tight, but we know we fit."

"What if you wake up with a boner?" Maeve asked quietly.

"I won't panic. I know that now. And we can just… deal with it if it happens."

Maeve ran her eyes across him for a few moments, then softly asked, "What happened today?"

"What do you mean," Otis asked, puzzled.

"You seem… different than this morning. You're wanting to wake up with a boner with me. I'm making all these sex comments and you're not freaking out – mostly," she amended. "Not like you used to."

"I freaked out a couple of times."

"Those were different," Maeve said then remembered and laughed, waving a hand at him. "And that fucking comment about being stiff in the morgue. Surprised the shit out of me."

Otis gave a small smile and nodded, breathing softly, thoughts turning inward momentarily.

"What happened?" Maeve asked again, quietly.

Otis took a slow deep breath. "I've been thinking a lot. About last night. This morning. And something mum said. She was joking, but…"

"What did she say?" Maeve asked, softly.

"When she asked me which dress she should wear, I said I didn't want to say in case I got it wrong and Ola's dad preferred the other one and mum said, 'Cowardice doesn't become you, Otis.' She was joking," he said earnestly, "but…"

"What did that mean for you?" Maeve asked, gently.

"I'm sick of being a coward."

"You're not a coward," Maeve said sharply.

Otis took a deep breath and sighed. "I have lived so much of my life with fear. In fear. Whatever. And you know what one thing FEAR means?"

Maeve was silent for a moment then said, softly, "False Evidence Appearing Real."

Otis nodded. "False Evidence. Those feelings. Those memories. Those aren't real things to be afraid of." He looked Maeve directly in the eyes. "I don't want to be ruled by false evidence anymore."

Maeve's breath hitched but she kept silent.

"When I was jerking off this morning," he continued, "it was okay. My hand… felt okay. Your hand… Aaagh, freakout." He waved his hands in the air. "Same activity. Different feeling. Why? False evidence."

Otis sat back and looked directly at Maeve.

"It's all been false evidence," he said.

"So what does this mean for us?" Maeve asked, softly.

"I'm not ready for sex. Fucking. I'm not going to try that until after I talk to someone."

Maeve nodded and studied him silently.

"And I'm not saying I won't still freak out a little sometimes. I told you, healing is closer to a spiral than a straight line."

Maeve nodded and took a soft breath.

"And I'm not saying we have to– I'm not pushing, Maeve…"

Maeve nodded, hoping he could see that she truly understood.

"But if we do do anything… if something happens… I don't want to be afraid of it anymore."

Otis stared at Maeve, watching her tender gaze upon him.

"There's a bit of 'fake it till you make it' but a lot of it's real. And I know I thought I could push more before all that shit last night but this feels different."

"A lot's actually happened since last night," Maeve murmured.

Otis nodded. "We've talked about it. I had never talked about it. That's made a huge difference."

Maeve wandered her tender gaze across his face, pressing her lips gently together.

"I don't know if you realise how much talking about it with someone I trust has helped," he continued. "I don't know if you realise how much you've actually given me ever since we bumped into each other."

Maeve drew in a slow breath.

"I could never have understood any of this without you, Maeve."

Maeve blinked a few times and swallowed.

"Thank you for being my friend," Otis said quietly, never taking his eyes from her.

Maeve hitched in a breath and pushed her chair back and began walking around the table toward him.

He pushed his chair back and started to rise but stopped as Maeve waved her hand at him and shook her head. "Stay there," she murmured, voice slightly raw.

He waited until she stood over him and waved her hand at his lap and gave him a quizzical look and he nodded and she sat across his lap and put her arm around him and leaned her head down for a long tender kiss.

When it finished, she leant her forehead softly against his and gently brushed her nose across his.

"Love you, muppet," she whispered.

Otis hesitated for moment then said, "I thought you meant you were going to give me a handjob."

Maeve giggled – _laughed_ – and lifted her head, bit her lip and looked into his eyes.

"Do you want one?" she asked gently.

"In a minute," he said, softly smiling then lifted his head for another long tender kiss. When it was over, he asked quietly, "Can I walk you home when you have to go?"

Maeve smiled gently at him. "I thought we were going to watch a movie."

"Well," said Otis, smiling gently at her, eyes glittering, "we don't actually have to watch a movie."

* * *

**Author's Notes: I'm still uncertain whether I'm moving things along too quickly, but this is where the story is telling me it wants to go.**

**I have a lot of the next chapter worked out in my head so unless things fall apart (again) it won't be too long before I publish but probably not before Season 2 is released. **


	18. Chapter 18

**Author's Notes: This was plotted and half-written before I saw Season 2.**

**I am laughing at how I agonized for months trying to deal with Otis' trauma – managing four chapters - and the show basically breezed past it and directly contradicted my belief that Otis blamed himself for the divorce.**

**Ah, well - I'll be sticking with my basic outline of the steps they take to be fully together but there will be influences from Season 2.**

**Also, if you think they seem to be moving too fast, this isn't the chapter where they slow down.**

* * *

**Chapter 18**

Maeve lay against the cushions on the lounge, grateful that Otis had dragged a footstool over towards the centre so she could stretch out. She gently watched as he re-entered the room and joined her on the lounge, stretching out beside her.

"Top's in the washing machine. Bra and pants in the sink," he said.

"Your mum'll be okay using the sink?"

"Mum uses the sink all the time," Otis said. "I keep telling her to use the bathroom but she says the sink's more convenient because it's right near the washing machine."

"She's right. It is convenient," Maeve murmured.

"I've set the timer on the stove for fifteen minutes. That should be enough for soaking your bra and pants."

"You really do know shit," Maeve breathed.

"I try to pay attention," Otis said.

"You certainly do," Maeve said, gently smiling at him.

"So," he began, smirking, "we going to watch a movie?"

Maeve rolled her eyes. "Yeah, we can watch _Clueless_. You'll like that."

"Why?"

"The main character falls in love with her step-brother."

Otis groaned and shook his head. "You're never going to give that one up, are you?"

"Nup," Maeve said, smirking.

Otis leaned forward and tenderly kissed her then gazed into her eyes.

"So should we start revving up?" he asked.

Maeve glanced down between them. "You're already revved up."

"Well, you need revving up."

"I've been revving up ever since you walked down the stairs with a blue veiner."

Otis scrunched his face. "Blue veiner?"

"Well, you weren't sleeping and it wasn't a diamond cutter."

"There's no other gradations?"

"Don't think so."

"Does that mean you call it your diamond?"

"I call it my cookie."

Otis frowned for a moment then said, tentatively, "Because I'm the cookie monster?"

Maeve smiled. "I knew you'd get it."

"Do you want me to…?" Otis asked gently, clearly nervous.

"Not tonight," Maeve said, quietly. "Not yet. I… don't think you're ready for that yet."

Otis nodded then asked, carefully. "Do you think I'm moving too fast?"

Maeve ran her gaze across his face. "I think you're doing what you think is best so you can get comfortable with us being together."

"It's only been a couple of days since we kissed."

"Two days and twelve hours," Maeve said, gently smiling. "Don't know how many minutes."

Otis smiled gently at her.

"Don't keep second guessing yourself, Otis," she continued. "Trust your instincts and let me trust mine. I think you're moving as fast as you really want to and doing your best not to let all that bullshit you've been dealing with stop you."

"I think I'll still need to take it a bit slowly," he said softly. "Just at first. Just so we know I'm not fooling myself."

"I understand," Maeve said gently.

He smiled at her a moment then quietly asked, "Would you hold me?"

Maeve gave him a gentle smile and nodded.

"Stroke it like you did last night and then just… hold it," he said, forcing a slow breathing pace, preparing himself.

Maeve nodded and glanced down then reached out her hand and grabbed him through his boxers and, not quite as firmly as last night, squeezed him and dragged her hand the length of him and held his tip tightly in her palm.

She felt him tense and looked up to see he was holding his breath then he released it and relaxed a little.

"You okay?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said, breathlessly and she could see he was focussing his attention on the feel of himself held in her palm.

"Did that feel…?" She trailed off, searching for a word to use.

"It felt good," Otis said. "Feels good."

Maeve continued holding him in her palm without moving and watched as Otis became accustomed to the feeling.

"Okay," he breathed after a moment. "Would you… go the other way?"

"Okay," she murmured and gently pushed her hand down the length of him until she felt her hand cupping his balls.

She watched as he breathed in then out then in again and she studied him for any sign of panic.

After a moment, Otis released his breath and relaxed a little more and said, "Thank you."

Maeve released him and watched as he looked into her eyes, bent down for a tenderly passionate kiss and then quietly asked, "Is it okay to start touching your breasts?"

"You can touch any part of me tonight," she said, softly. "Except my bumhole," she amended. "And don't tickle."

Otis looked at her, intrigued. "You're ticklish?"

"You try and I will stab you in the eye."

Otis smiled and leant down to kiss her again.

"I'll need you to let me know if you want to touch me again," he said, apologetically.

"I understand," Maeve murmured.

"I mean, just at first. We'll be able to get lost in the moment-"

"It's okay," she whispered, gently touching his cheek.

"I'll let you know when I want to move further," he murmured.

Maeve nodded. "So are you going to stop talking and start revving?" she asked, biting her lip.

Otis smiled and leant down to kiss her again. His hand softly touched her side and slowly moved toward her breast until he was gently holding it then he began softly rubbing his thumb across her nipple.

She would have to take the t-shirt off at the first available opportunity. The touch of his hand against her skin was so vivid in her memory and this shirt was a lot thicker than the top she wore last night.

"Is it okay to take your t-shirt off?" Otis asked quietly. "It's thicker than your top last night."

Maeve smiled to herself at the synchronicity of their thoughts then sat up and reached for her shirt then stopped as something occurred to her and she looked into Otis' face.

"What time's Jean getting home?" she asked.

Otis looked at her and it took a moment to realise what she was thinking. "Probably real late," he said. "Ola's dad has lost his licence so mum had to pick him up and she'll probably drop him off and have sex at his place before coming home. We've got plenty of time."

"Good," she murmured.

"Besides, once the laundry's finished we'll go upstairs. She won't be home before that."

"Great," Maeve said, taking the t-shirt off and tossing it aside.

Otis watched her as she lay back then he leant over and kissed her before moving his head down to circle her nipple with his tongue. He had been right. It was easier this time around.

As he moved his head over to her other breast and tenderly circled her other nipple with his tongue, she reached out to gently run her fingers across his hair.

"Feeling okay?" she murmured.

He lifted his head and looked at her, nodding. "Much easier than last night." He smirked softly. "I'm not as afraid that they'll explode if I do this." He flicked her nipple with his tongue.

"Dickhead," she murmured, smiling.

He bent his head again and kissed her nipple and Maeve lay her head back and closed her eyes and felt her tide rising even higher.

* * *

Maeve could feel herself reaching the point where the need to feel his fingers down there would override her desire to let him guide the pacing of the night.

She was as concerned as he was that this might be a mistake – she was doing plenty of second-guessing of her own – but she really did sense something different about him tonight.

His fingers and his tongue on her breasts were somehow more confident tonight and she could only imagine how much more confident his fingers on her little labs and then inside her would be.

Maybe loving her really was the key, trusting her enough to tell her about his history, desiring her enough to do whatever he could to normalize what should be normal between them.

She glanced down at him, stroked his hair gently again and then met his lips as he raised his head toward hers.

When their lips parted, he gazed tenderly into her eyes and she could see no shadow or cloud within his.

He glanced down at the shorts she was wearing.

"Are you wearing pants under those?" he asked and Maeve drew in a soft breath at the desire in his voice.

"Dunno," she said, biting her lip. "Can't remember. Maybe you better check." She spread her legs slightly.

Otis smiled gently at her then she felt the gentle touch of his fingers against her thigh and tingles went through her as he whispered his fingers along her skin and slid them inside the leg of her shorts.

She took in a quick sharp breath as an outstretched finger brushed her clit and then gently encircled it.

"Ohhh, shit, Otis," she said, closing her eyes.

"Something wrong?" asked Otis with a smirk in his voice.

"Magic fingers," she murmured.

Otis stroked his finger across her clit again then she felt his hand withdraw from her shorts and she opened her eyes and stared at him with a mixture of soft dismay and concern.

Otis smiled at her and asked, tentatively, "Do you think we should open the mystery box?"

Maeve relaxed and smiled. "Yes," she said firmly.

Otis smiled to himself and rose to his knees, shuffling along the footstool to a better position as Maeve sat up and put her arms back, resting on her hands and raising her knees, watching him carefully.

Otis appreciated her for a moment then looked down at her shorts.

Maeve watched him hesitate and take in a slow breath.

"As slow as you need," she murmured. "If you don't want to go further…"

Otis looked at her and said, "I do."

He looked back down at her shorts and reached out to grab the waistband at both hips. Maeve lifted her butt and Otis dragged her shorts up and over her knees and down her legs and off her feet and tossed them aside.

Maeve spread her legs further and watched as Otis turned back to her and looked down, appreciating her.

"You like?" she asked, quietly.

Otis nodded and looked into her eyes and said, hesitantly. "Carpet doesn't match the drapes. I was expecting a pink fringe."

"Dickhead," Maeve said and smiled.

Otis studied the hair on her head and pointed. "You mean those aren't your natural colours?"

"Dickhead," she said again, still smiling.

Otis grinned to himself, glanced between her legs again then shuffled position to lay down beside her. Maeve lay back against the cushion and they stared into each other's eyes in silence for a few moments.

"Maeve…?" Otis eventually began, seriously.

"What?"

"I checked. You're not wearing pants."

"Dickhead," she said, grinning.

"May I touch you?" he asked after a moment.

Maeve nodded. "Yes," she said quietly, "but don't push yourself."

"I won't," he said.

"You're feeling okay?"

"Yes."

He leaned over and kissed her then Maeve again felt his fingers against her thigh, travelling slowly upwards across her skin until they were stroking between her little labs and gently swirling around her clit.

She hoped she could hold off coming until they were inside her.

* * *

Maeve realised she had given herself over to him completely.

He seemed to be doing fine. Every time he slowed down the rhythm, every time he switched to rubbing his palm across her clit and her labs, she had opened her eyes to study him and, apart from the times he was concentrating so hard on bringing her to the boil that it seemed nothing in the world existed for him except his hand and her vulva, he really was showing none of the nervousness or uncomfortableness of the night before. He seemed so much more at ease attending to her pleasure.

She could feel the pressure building as his fingers stroked rapidly back and forth across her clit. She loved how last night he had been so gentle and tender and slow while tonight he had added this to the mix - a little rougher, a little faster - and she hadn't even had to tell him that sometimes rougher was good.

She heard the sound of the stove timer in the distance and a wave of regret washed through her. She knew him too well.

"Leave it," she murmured without opening her eyes then groaned as Otis removed his touch.

"It'll just take a couple of minutes," she heard him say as she felt him roll away from her.

"It can wait," she said, resenting the almost-pleading tone in her voice.

"We don't want to forget about them," Otis said as she felt him rise from the lounge.

"I wouldn't have stopped jerking you off if it was the other way around," she called after him.

There was no response. She opened her eyes and was surprised to him staring down at her, smirking.

"Dickhead," she murmured as he lay down beside her again.

"Just building the anticipation," he said.

"My anticipation is built," she said, mock-annoyed. "I'm now waiting for the pay-off."

"I'm doing good?" he asked.

"You are doing so good," she breathed. "Your fingers are so magical. You are so close to sending me beyond the moon. You so don't deserve me at this moment."

"Well, I better start trying to deserve you," he said and put his hand on her thigh again. "With your permission."

Maeve mock-pouted at him. "Permission granted. On one condition."

"What condition?"

"That I not be the only one naked."

Otis smiled and sat up to remove his t-shirt before laying back down and lifting his hips so he could drag his boxers off and toss them aside.

Maeve gazed softly at his erection before moving her gaze to his face as he returned to her side.

"That's better," she murmured.

"Would you touch it again?" he asked, quietly.

She nodded and reached down to wrap her palm around his tip, just holding it.

"Do you want me to stroke it?" she asked.

"Just a little," Otis said. "Slowly."

He gasped as she moved her hand slowly across his ridge and down then back over his ridge again.

Maeve watched him as she kept up the slow rhythm of her hand. He had closed his eyes and was breathing steadily, allowing himself to enjoy the feeling as much as he could.

"Do you want me to try to finish you?" Maeve asked.

Otis opened his eyes and gently stilled Maeve's hand.

"Not yet," he said.

"It's okay to want to get off," Maeve said.

"I know," said Otis. "But… I want to… finish you first."

"You want to see my cumface," Maeve smirked.

"I saw your cumface last night," Otis said.

"No, you saw my face as I came. You didn't see my real cumface."

Otis smiled softly. "Well, um, maybe I could continue to try to rectify that situation?"

Maeve released him and smiled tenderly at him. "Okay," she said.

Otis leant over and kissed her tenderly then touched her thigh and whispered his fingers higher along her skin until they again reached her little labs and began stroking.

"Is this okay, Maeve? Do you like the way I do this?" Otis asked softly.

"I love the way you stroke my little labs," Maeve murmured.

"Your what?" Otis asked, puzzled.

"My flaps," Maeve said.

Otis scrunched his face at the term. "What was that first one?" he asked.

"My little labs."

"I like that one."

"Little labs. Downstairs lips. Flaps. Pink shutters."

"Are your others your big labs?"

"Just my labs."

"Labs. Little labs. Clit. Pussy. Is that the dirty talk you like?"

"Mmmm," Maeve murmured.

"Do you mind if I move my fingers inside you?"

Maeve studied him then murmured, "No."

Otis nodded then looked down and slowly slipped two fingers inside her again. He held them there, not moving, and looked at Maeve. "Do you mind if I just do this for a moment?"

"No," Maeve murmured.

"Just want to make sure…" he said quietly.

"It's okay," Maeve whispered.

"I like how this feels," he murmured.

"Me, too," Maeve sighed.

"Was I doing alright last night? At this bit?" he asked, nervously concerned.

"If I hadn't touched you, you would have sent me into the stratosphere."

"Is it okay to start moving again?" he asked, looking queryingly at her.

She nodded then gave a little moan as he twisted his fingers and began to stroke inside her.

"Is this okay?"

"Stroking my girl button? Fuck, yeah," she said.

"Girl button?" Otis said, smiling gently.

"Think of a better name for it, I'm all ears."

"Is this good?" Otis said, still stroking.

"Mmm-mmm."

"This?"

"Mmm."

Otis watched her tenderly as her feelings of pleasure washed across her face. His fingers continued their movement and he watched in soft fascination as her breathing quickened, deepened. When she gave yet another soft moan, he wondered if he could come just from listening to her.

* * *

Maeve could sense herself beginning to lose it. Her tide was the highest she had ever remembered it being and as Otis' fingers stroked and twisted gently she remembered she didn't have to keep quiet and sighed, "God."

When she felt his thumb slide across her clit, she moaned, "Jesus."

When she felt his tongue flicking across her nipple, she cried, "Fuck!"

When she felt him moving even faster, she sensed her body involuntarily react and when she heard him murmur, "Christ, you're so beautiful," she gasped and yelled "Jesusfuckingchristotis," and crested around him.

When he removed his fingers, she was lifted higher into the stratosphere.

When the waves passed and she was able to open her eyes and look at him, he was gazing at her with tear-filled eyes and a look of adoration that took her breath away.

* * *

Maeve felt a comfort she had never before experienced as Otis wrapped his arm around her shoulders while she nuzzled against his neck. She wasn't sure how long it had been since her world exploded into a billion tidal waves of pleasure but right now all she wanted to hear was Otis' gentle tones.

"You looked so beautiful," he murmured.

"You did that for me," she murmured.

"I honestly once never thought I could."

"It's okay to feel good that you pleased me," she murmured.

"I never imagined… I mean, mum and dad over the years told me about… women's pleasure… some of it when I was old enough to understand… but… sorry, do you want me to keep quiet for a bit?"

"Talk," Maeve murmured.

"I did do some research. It's not true I can watch something once and know what to do."

"Porn?" Maeve asked.

"Yeah. Girls – women – by themselves. Seeing what they liked for themselves."

"Mmmm," Maeve hummed, satisfied.

"Was one video out there. A guy trying to demonstrate on an orange. Do not go looking. Nightmare fuel."

Maeve snorted a very soft chuckle.

"I'm sorry I didn't ask more last night about what you liked," he said, quietly apologetic. "I just… didn't think I could talk and…"

"Finger me," Maeve murmured.

Otis smiled softly to himself. "Yeah. Talk and finger you at the same time. I hoped I could judge by the look on your face."

"Mmmm," Maeve murmured.

"I mean, you seemed to enjoy what I was doing," he said quietly and Maeve imagined a gently smug smile on his lips.

"Understatement," she murmured.

"I'm just glad you still let me…" he murmured.

Maeve opened her eyes and lifted her head to look at him. "How did it compare to last night? Not the other shit," she clarified. "Just that bit."

"Had a few moments where those feelings, those memories were there, but… they didn't really affect me. Made me… a bit uncomfortable at first but I just kept focussing and breathing and they went away."

"You did seem more at ease."

Otis looked at her gently for a moment that stretched to an eternity. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Pleasure Supreme," she murmured.

She leaned forward and kissed him tenderly.

"My turn now?" she asked.

Otis nodded. "If you're ready," he said.

"What do you want me to do?" she asked, softly.

"Just… just hold me again, to start off with."

Maeve smiled tenderly then looked down at him and gently wrapped her hand around his tip, loving the gentle inhale he gave and the soft shudder that went through him.

"Still sensitive?" she asked, quietly.

"Mmm-mmm," he nodded.

"Just tell me when you want me to start stroking," she said.

"You can start," he said quietly and Maeve could sense his anticipation.

She bit her lip then gently moved her hand across his ridge and down the length of him. She studied his face, noticing the looks of nervousness and pleasure mingling there.

"Not too much?" she asked.

Otis shook his head. "I'll let you know if I don't think I can handle it."

Maeve nodded and looked back down at him, stilling the movement of her hand and gently running her thumb across his ridge.

Otis took in a deep breath and let it out slowly then reached down and put his hand over Maeve's.

"Just… hold me like that," he said.

Maeve nodded gently, kept her hand wrapped around him, not moving.

"Just for a few minutes," he said.

Maeve studied him, then asked, "What were you thinking about? This morning?"

"What?" Otis asked, confused.

"When you were tugging your tiger?"

"You," Otis said.

"I'll need you to be more specific," Maeve smirked.

Otis rolled his eyes at himself then said, "My dream."

"The dream that you said you didn't have about my pants?"

Otis smiled and nodded. "That one. It was the first one I ever had. Not the first dream I had about you. I'd had a lot of dreams about you since the summer." He paused for a moment and swallowed then continued. "It was my first wet dream," he said, almost sheepishly.

Maeve bit her lip and smiled. "When was this?"

"The morning before our first clinic," Otis said.

Maeve glanced away, pondering then remembered and looked back at Otis, grinning with understanding. "That's why you wouldn't look at me."

"You remembered?" Otis said, surprised.

"I'm remembering more than I thought I did," Maeve murmured.

"I felt kind of ashamed that I had objectified you," Otis said.

Maeve fondly rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Fucking hell, Otis," she murmured. "Not that shit again. Do you think I was thinking about that first conversation about Sylvia Plath when I started flicking my bean about you? I was thinking about your blue eyes. How your lips would feel. How your fingers would feel touching me there."

Otis shrugged and smiled softly.

"So how did you objectify me?" Maeve asked.

Otis took a breath. "We were at Aimee's party. Somebody had split a whole tray of drinks on your dress and you'd borrowed one from Aimee and you were going to have a shower and you chose the bathroom where I'd gone when I needed to be alone and you forgot to lock the door and I walked in on you."

"And I was in only my pants," Maeve said, not realising she had released her grip on Otis.

"No, you were still in your dress. I was going to leave but you told me to stay and you told me what happened…"

"And…?"

"And then you turned away and asked if I'd undo the zip on your dress."

Maeve smiled softly, not realising she was rubbing her fingers gently along the length of him.

"I'd seen that in so many movies and… it… it seems… I really like it," he confessed, sheepishly. "So I did. You were looking in the mirror and I was behind you and I… undid your zipper… and…"

"Don't be embarrassed. What?"

"I was looking at your neck and I wanted to kiss it – just a few kisses - and… put my arms around you…"

"Did you?" Maeve asked, not realising she was running her finger gently across his blowhole.

"No. I was going to leave and then you dropped your dress and you were standing there in your bra and pants and I could see you in the mirror and then our eyes met and you asked me if I would undo your bra."

"Did you?"

"Yes. I didn't fumble with it or anything," he said, almost proudly.

"We're all perfect in dreams," Maeve murmured. "What happened then?"

"You… let your bra fall to the floor and you were standing there in just your pants and I…"

"What?"

"I wasn't staring. I was…"

"You were objectifying me," Maeve said, smirking.

Otis smiled wryly. "I was appreciating you."

"Then what?" Maeve asked, not realising she was gently squeezing and releasing his tip as she slowly twisted her palm back and forth.

"I looked into the mirror and you were looking at me and you asked me if I'd like to have a shower with you so I could wash your back and then…"

"Then?"

Otis shrugged. "I woke up," he finished, lamely.

Maeve stared at him for a few moments, smiling gently, then murmured, "You came."

Otis nodded. "That was the first wet dream I ever had about anyone."

"And you were '_horrified_' that you had objectified me?" Maeve asked fondly.

Otis nodded and gave a rueful smile. "I was a lech. I was a bad person. I was Hannibal Lecter."

"Ohhh," Maeve said, understanding. "That's where the Hannibal Lecter thing came from."

"Yeah."

"Casual Hamm is more your vibe."

"Eric came up with that one."

"What colour were my pants?" Maeve asked. "In your dream."

"Pink."

"I don't own pink pants."

"I didn't know."

Otis smiled gently at her then looked down at her hand gently stroking him.

Maeve followed his gaze then gasped in shock.

"I'm sorry," she said, horrified, snatching her hand away.

"It's okay, it's okay," Otis said. "It was feeling good."

"I'm sorry. I didn't even realise," Maeve said, apologetically.

"Do you want to keep doing it?" Otis asked. "Just… touching me the way you normally would touch someone?"

"It was okay?" Maeve asked, still concerned.

"It was feeling really good. I didn't have any of those bad feelings," he said.

"I hadn't even realised I was doing it," she said.

"Isn't that what we're aiming for? That we can get lost in the moment and it's okay?" Otis asked.

Maeve nodded and murmured, "Yeah," then gently gripped him again, softly stroking him.

Otis took in a deep breath and slowly released it as he watched her hand.

"What did you like?" Maeve asked quietly. "What felt the best?"

Otis stared gently at her then murmured, "When you were stroking my blowhole."

Maeve moved her thumb to gently stroke his blowhole. "Like that?"

Otis shuddered and swallowed and nodded. "Uh-huh."

Maeve smiled to herself then gently began rubbing her thumb across his ridge again. "How about that? How does that feel?"

"Good," Otis said, hoarsely.

Maeve began stroking the length of him again. "What about this?" she asked. "Too slow? Too fast?"

"Faster," Otis said.

Maeve nodded and began stroking faster, moving back and forth across his ridge, watching his hips buckling.

"Do you want to hear the joke?" Maeve asked.

"What?" Otis asked, confused.

"The joke. It's a more appropriate moment," Maeve said.

Otis nodded.

Maeve leant closer and murmured in his ear. "What's the difference between like, love and hate?"

Otis frowned and thought for a moment, then shrugged and shook his head.

"Spit, swallow, bite," Maeve said, biting her lip.

Otis chuckled softly.

"Do you want me to suck it?" Maeve asked quietly.

Otis looked at her in shock then his hips bucked and he moaned and felt the world disappear in an explosion of bliss and Maeve felt warm stickiness spreading across her fingers.

* * *

Maeve wiped her hands on his t-shirt then used it to wipe the stickiness from his penis and his stomach. She kept glancing at Otis as he slowly came back to himself.

"I didn't think you were that close," she said.

"Neither did I," Otis said, breathing returning to normal.

"You must really have liked that last offer," Maeve said, smirking.

"You don't have to, Maeve," Otis said.

"I wouldn't have made the offer if I didn't want to," she said, tossing the shirt onto the floor and lying down beside him, snuggling against him.

"I just don't… After Olivia…"

"Olivia's boyfriend was a dick. You're not like that."

"I just don't want you feeling obliged…"

"God," Maeve sighed, fondly. "How many times am I going to have to tell you?"

Otis looked gently at her. "Infinity plus one?"

Maeve smiled at him, twirled a finger around his chest. "So how was it?"

"It was incredible, Maeve," Otis breathed. "You were… so good."

"You didn't have any of those feelings?"

"None. Not a single one. I just… all I was thinking about was how good you were making me feel."

"So you're right. Doing things does get easier for you."

"I can't believe I've come this far so quickly," he said, amazed.

"I think I'm flattered," Maeve said, smiling gently at him.

"I'm still not ready for sex yet," he said.

Maeve nodded.

"But I… y'know…" His voice trailed off.

"What?" Maeve asked.

Otis sighed, torn between speaking and keeping silent.

"Come on, Otis. You're not still shy after we've just got each other off?" she murmured, smiling.

"I would like to taste you," he said, staring directly into her eyes.

Maeve smiled gently. "Are you sure you're ready for that?"

"If you don't want me to yet, that's fine, but…"

Maeve looked at him, not speaking.

"When I was… fingering you, I thought of asking you if I could lick you but… events got away from me."

"You just want to see if I do taste like vanilla," Maeve smirked.

"I bet you taste like strawberries and cream."

"I'd win that bet."

"We don't have to. Some other time," he murmured.

"I don't want you feeling obliged, Otis."

Otis dropped his head and smiled sheepishly. "Point taken."

Maeve studied him gently for a long moment. "Look, let's just get these clothes hung out and then I'll see, okay?"

"Okay."

"I think I've unleashed a monster," she smirked.

"Figjam?"

"Fuck off," Maeve said, smiling and rising and walking toward the kitchen.

"I love you," Otis said as he smiled and rose from the lounge to follow her.

* * *

**Author's Notes: I guess it's too late to turn back now.**

**I just figure that Otis wants Maeve more than he ever wanted Lily or Ola.**


	19. Chapter 19

**Author's Notes: More of the same, only different.**

**Thanks to insanity_keeps_things_fun for graciously allowing me to use their line.**

**I think I should take a moment now to acknowledge my debt to the movie **_**Before Sunrise**_**. It was an unconscious influence on a previous non-**_**Sex Ed**_** story which became a conscious influence when I realized what I was doing.**

**Ethan Hawke and Julie Delpy meet on a train and must part at sunrise and we follow them as they wander around Vienna sharing their thoughts and feelings on life and love and more.**

**It's a beautiful movie and every time I now sit down to write I try to capture a little of the magic it created just by allowing us to watch two people talking. Sometimes I think I even succeed a little.**

* * *

**Chapter 19**

Otis stood against the bench in the kitchen and took Maeve's bra from between the two towels he had been using to gently remove the excess water.

He heard soft footsteps pattering across the kitchen floor and looked up to see Maeve walking toward him, still naked, still gorgeous.

She placed her cigarette pack and lighter on the bench and studied him gently.

"You do realise people could see you from the road?" he asked.

"If there were any pervs up there, it was too dark to see much anyway."

"Not if they had night vision glasses."

"You seem to know a lot about the mechanics of perving."

"I'm just saying—" Otis began, flustered.

Maeve sighed contentedly. "Oh, thank god."

"What?"

Maeve pressed against his back and put her arms around his waist and leaned her head against him. "I thought Sexy Otis was going to completely replace Cute Otis."

"Am I allowed to call you Sexy Maeve?" Otis asked, a smile in his voice.

"That's objectification," Maeve murmured.

"Gorgeous Maeve?"

"I'll think about it."

Otis put the bra next to Maeve's pants and said, "They're done."

"You really do pay attention."

"Aren't you glad I do?"

"Very," she sighed.

"We should wash my shirt."

"I'll get it in a minute."

"May as well wash everything. We'll go upstairs soon."

Silence settled over them for a while.

"How are you feeling now?" she eventually murmured.

"Good," said Otis, quietly.

"It didn't really hit you at first, did it?"

"Not until you were taking your top out of the machine."

"It's okay to cry, Otis," she said, gently.

"What did you call it this morning?" he asked, softly.

"_Post-coital tristesse_."

"It felt completely different."

"How?"

"I felt sad but I also felt… happy."

"Is there a word for that?"

"You're the writer."

"I haven't swallowed a dictionary."

"Maybe in another language."

"Relief?" Maeve suggested, softly.

Otis was silent for a moment, trying as best he could to take his emotional temperature. "It feels more than that."

"Maybe your mom will know something."

"I had to buy her a thesaurus, remember?"

Maeve smiled gently to herself at the smile in his voice.

"Maybe we can just call it happysad," she said and lifted her head and kissed his shoulder then stepped back.

He turned to face her and gazed gently into her eyes.

She stepped forward and they wrapped their arms around each other, lips meeting in a tender kiss.

When the kiss was over, he said quietly, "I don't regret it, Maeve. It was really good. I just…" His voice tailed off into silence and a frustrated look drifted across his face.

"I told you it's not how good or bad the sex was," Maeve said, reassuringly. "It happens."

"The thing is, I feel okay now."

"That can happen, too."

She could see he didn't understand and she reached for a memory.

"I once bawled my eyes out for fifteen minutes then half an hour later I was laughing and giggling with Aimee," she said. "No, I wasn't," she corrected herself. "I never giggle."

"Of course you don't," Otis murmured.

"The guy I was with fucked off. Thought I was a psycho."

"You aren't?"

Maeve poked her tongue at him then winced at herself. "Sorry," she said.

"What for?"

"I shouldn't mention other guys while we're naked together."

"I don't mind," Otis said quietly.

"I do."

Otis gazed tenderly at her.

"Just try to accept it can happen and it doesn't mean anything more than the moment," she said, hoping he could hear her.

Otis was silent for several moments then said, "Maybe it _was_ relief. And regret."

"Regretting what?"

"All the time I wasted. Not dealing. Keeping it hidden. Not even telling my best friend. Maybe if I'd dealt with my shit I would have been able to let you kiss me in the pool. Maybe I wouldn't have been able to hurt you."

Maeve gazed at him tenderly and reached up and gently ran her fingers through his hair. "Maybe we needed to go through that shit to get here. So we could know we're serious."

"Do you really believe that?" Otis asked.

"I don't know," Maeve said.

* * *

Maeve leant against the balcony railing and watched Otis hang her bra and pants on the line next to her striped top. Even as a silhouette, she could see how nervous he was.

"Nobody's going to see us," she said.

"Anybody could be watching," he protested. "It's not that dark."

"They won't know we're starkers."

"I'll turn the kitchen light off."

"Leave it," Maeve said quietly.

Otis was torn between turning the kitchen light off and listening to her then he made his decision and walked over to her, looking around nervously.

"Just relax, muppet," Maeve said.

"Are you an exhibitionist, Maeve?"

"Yeah, I walk around the caravan park like this all the time. I've got a real fan club. Jeffrey's the president."

Otis sighed, resigning himself.

"I just like the feel of the night air. Haven't done it in a while," she murmured.

"You've done this before?"

"I've had sex outside."

"Isn't that illegal?" Otis asked, concerned.

"Only if you get caught."

"I don't think I would feel comfortable doing that," he murmured.

"Two and a half days ago, did you think you'd feel comfortable doing what we did tonight?" she asked.

"No," said Otis after a pause.

"Just choose an isolated spot. It's fine."

"Like behind the bus stop?"

"Nobody would have seen us."

"Have you done it there?" he asked, cautiously.

"No."

"Where have you done it?" he asked, genuinely curious.

"You know those trees the other side of Fenwick Oval?"

"People kick balls into there all the time," Otis protested.

"I don't do it while people are playing," she said, scrunching her face.

Otis turned and gazed into the darkness, pondering.

"You can't see it now," he began, "but dad put up a bench and table right down there. So we could just sit and have a picnic and watch people in boats on the river. Haven't been down there for a while but there's a little inlet off to the left. Can barely see the entrance from the river. That would be a good spot."

"I wouldn't ask you to do it if you're not comfortable," Maeve said.

"Maybe we could try it," he said, tentatively. "You said you wished we could have done it in the pool. Be kind of like doing it in the pool."

Maeve smiled fondly at him. "You really love pushing yourself," she murmured.

"It's worked so far," he said.

"Except for that one blip."

Otis nodded acknowledgement. "I'm sorry," he said quietly.

"It didn't kill us."

"Do you think it made us stronger?"

Maeve didn't feel that question needed an answer.

* * *

Maeve and Otis sat at the balcony table. Maeve ashed into a sea-shell and watched Otis in the half-light from the kitchen.

"I'm normally so cautious," he said. "I think and re-think and plan and re-plan almost everything and even then I sometimes bail. Eric would get very frustrated with me. And if things go wrong I retreat into the corner and it normally takes Eric a long time to get me to come out."

Maeve blew smoke into the air and simply watched him.

"I'm not like this," he said in soft wonderment.

"It seems you are," Maeve murmured.

"I wanted to be. I never thought I could be. I'm not spontaneous. I don't like being out of control."

"You've been amazing."

"It was the dancing," he said. "I had never felt so… alive. And when you let me touch you again… it was like..."

"You had a rush of blood to the head?"

"More like a rush of blood from one head to the other."

"So, thinking with the smaller head isn't always bad," she murmured with a smile.

They were silent for a moment.

"Did I tell you I wanked about you after you sent the text?" he eventually asked.

"Not specifically, but I guessed."

"And the next morning."

"Last person you thought about before you fell asleep, first person you thought about when you woke up," Maeve murmured, soft smile in her voice.

"And all the moments in between," Otis said softly.

"It sounds familiar," she said quietly to herself.

"It was like I hadn't been really alive until I felt the combination of all those things and I wanted to get away from all that other shit."

"Here I've been thinking it's because I'm so unresistingly desirable," she smirked.

"Oh, Maeve, you are. That's not—" Otis protested.

"I'm fucking with you, Otis. It's both," she said. "Running to and from."

"It was you, specifically, Maeve. I could never have been like this with Ola."

Maeve pursed her lips. "I'll let it go because you're inexperienced but don't mention another woman you dated while we're naked together."

"Sorry."

She shrugged. "Over it."

"I just wanted to have different memories," he said quietly.

"You want to keep running tonight, don't you?" she asked softly.

"Do you think we should?"

"Do you want to? Forget everything else. Do you want to?"

"Yes," Otis said quietly. "I'm just worried after how I reacted earlier."

"I told you. It was a moment. Let it be a moment. Don't bring it into now."

* * *

Maeve leant against the balcony railing and Otis' fingers were again inside her, bringing her to the boil while her hand stroked his penis, her palm across his ridge and around his tip the most beautiful sensation he had ever felt.

She felt his breath flow across her ear and wondered momentarily why she always found that so erotic and then she felt her knees trembling and knew she was going to explode and as she groaned a long, constricted "fuuuuck" she released his hard-on and crested around him again and then his fingers were still working on her and she was cresting again and as he kept stroking her girl button it was more than she could bear and she pushed her hand down against his hand and crested again as his fingers withdrew and then she was collapsing against him, body trembling, and as another orgasm washed through her she knew that she had again mewled like a baby lion.

* * *

Maeve lay snuggled against Otis on the lounge, watching her fingers gently stroking the length of him.

"I'm not like this either," she murmured. "I told you, you've been making me feel so relaxed."

"Even with—" Otis began.

"In a bigger sense, muppet," she said, looking up at him while still stroking. "You make me feel… like for a little while I can forget the shit. I mean, the shit'll still be there tomorrow and the next day but… right now… I don't need to think about it."

"If there's anything I can do to help," Otis murmured.

"I don't want charity, Otis," Maeve said, firmly.

"I'm not offering, but…"

Maeve turned her attention back to his penis, running her thumb along his ridge, smiling to herself at his positive reaction before returning to gently stroking his shaft.

"I appreciate it, muppet, but I need to figure out certain things for myself," she said.

"Are they likely to give you more hours?"

"Doubt it. This was last minute and if they had anyone cheaper they would have gone for them."

"Is there anything else you think you could go for?"

Maeve smiled up at him. "I'm stroking your cock and you're thinking of jobs for me. I'm obviously not very good if you can be that distracted."

"Sorry," Otis said, sheepishly.

"Do you want me to finish you?"

"I'm… liking you doing this. Is that weird? That I don't want to finish yet?"

"Not weird. Compellingly odd," Maeve smirked.

She gripped his tip and ran her palm back and forth along his ridge and smiled at his hissing intake of breath before returning to stroking his shaft again.

"Do you still want to taste me?" she asked, quietly.

"We don't have to," Otis said. "Just what we've been doing is okay for tonight."

Maeve sighed and rolled her eyes. "It's okay to want more."

When he didn't respond, she looked up at him.

"Can I kiss Jawbreaker?" she asked quietly.

"Do you really want to?" Otis asked, uncertain.

"No, I want to bite it," she softly snapped. "I'm hungry again."

Otis pressed his lips together, apologetically.

Maeve sighed and leaned closer to him, kissing him gently on the lips.

"I'm sorry," she murmured. "It's okay. Don't have to tonight."

Otis was quiet for a moment then sighed. "I do want to taste you, Maeve, but I'm uncomfortable with…"

"The power dynamic? The culturally-accepted idea that guys are entitled to blowjobs and girls just have to get down on their knees and deliver? The idea that girls are slags if they do and worse than slags if they're good at it?"

"I don't think—" protested Otis.

"I know you don't, muppet. I'm asking if you seem to think that wanting a blowjob means you're buying into that bullshit?"

Otis couldn't find the words to answer.

"Sorry. Maybe that's too heavy a conversation for tonight," Maeve murmured.

"Maybe after I talk to someone," Otis said, quietly.

Maeve nodded and turned her attention back to stroking him.

"If you want to finish me," he murmured then hissed as Maeve squeezed him and stroked her thumb across his blowhole.

* * *

Otis put two plates with cheesecake on the kitchen table and sat down beside Maeve.

"We were ten," she said as she picked up her spoon. "She just moved here and straightaway she was part of the Untouchables. Because of her dad. When they told her she couldn't hang around with me she said 'fuck it' and asked me if we could still hang out without them knowing. I didn't mind that much. She was so friendly and sweet."

Otis picked up his spoon and slowly began to eat, watching Maeve all the while.

"I had a couple of other girls I did hang around with. Claire Tyler. Patti Briskette," Maeve continued between bites of cheesecake. "But even then I knew I was a reject among rejects. It was starting to not bother me."

Otis took in a slow breath and gazed at her tenderly.

"You look at me with pity, Milburn, and I'll plonk myself on it and I don't care how much you panic."

"You have interesting ways of threatening me," Otis said with a gentle smile.

"Well, I don't want to poke your eyes out. They're too beautiful."

Otis smiled briefly, then asked, genuinely curious. "Why would you be a reject at that age? That was before Simon Furthassle."

"You really never heard anything about me?"

"I wasn't exactly popular either. I was just that weird kid in the corner who saw you around occasionally. Didn't hear much. Didn't think about you much until that day," he admitted.

Maeve nodded, pondering, then said, "People knew I was Erin's daughter. Sean's sister. Blood tells, don't you know?"

"People suck," Otis said, bitterly.

"I think that's why Groff has always had it out for me."

"Groff can go fuck a cactus," snarled Otis.

Maeve smiled at him tenderly. "A prick with a prick full of pricks. Yeah, that'd be good."

"I don't know why he's still the principal. No wonder Adam is as fucked as he is."

"Aimee says Adam can be really sweet when nobody's watching."

"I wish he'd let that side of himself be seen in public."

"He still picking on Eric?" Maeve asked.

"Eric hasn't said anything about Adam lately, so he mustn't be."

Maeve pondered for a moment then sighed. "I think me and Adam have that in common. Take our shit out on other people."

"I don't think it's like that at all," Otis said, earnestly. "Adam goes out of his way to pick on people. From what I've seen, you only ever respond in the moment when people intersect with you."

Maeve lowered her gaze, smiling to herself. "You go on thinking that."

"Of course, sometimes you might hit the wrong target but nobody's aim is perfect," Otis said, blandly.

* * *

Maeve sat on one of the chairs beside the balcony table, legs stretched onto another. Otis sat at the end of the table, legs stretched out beneath it, gently gazing at her.

"We were slow-dancing," Maeve said. "At the school dance. There was no Liam, no Sean, no… alternative dates. Just us."

"You mean we were the only ones there?"

"The other kids were there. But they were just background. The band was there."

"What were they playing?"

Maeve shrugged. "I don't know. One of their songs."

"What was their slow song?" Otis asked, trying to jog his memory.

"Are you going to let me tell you this?" Maeve snapped, not too harshly.

"Sorry," Otis said, subdued.

"It was their slow song. Must have been, if we were slow dancing."

"I could get their album and check."

Maeve picked up a long-dead butt from the sea-shell and flung it at him, hitting him in the chest. She smiled gently to herself at his yelp of surprise.

"Sorry," he said.

"Fucking hell, Milburn."

Otis kept quiet.

"We were dancing. Slow-dancing. Whatever song it was," Maeve continued.

Otis watched her face in the soft half-light from the kitchen, wishing he was an artist so he could capture this moment.

"And then we were in the centre of the dance floor and a spotlight was on us and all the other kids were just hanging back, watching us."

"Sounds nice," Otis murmured.

"It was."

"Were you in the same dress?"

Maeve nodded. "And you were Casual Hamm."

"You looked so gorgeous, Maeve."

"You were pretty spiff yourself, Milburn."

"What happened next?"

"We were just dancing-" She changed her tone. "-gazing deeply into each other's eyes-" She resumed her normal tone. "—and then the song changed. What was that old dancing movie? Mum used to love it. The guy from _Pulp Fiction_ when he was young and hot?"

"Oh," said Otis, recognising it, trying to remember, remembering. "_Saturday Night Fever_. John Travolta. Mum loves it, too."

"That's it. The band started playing one of the songs from that and you started doing all these John Travolta moves." She waved her arms in a vague approximation of the moves she remembered.

"Why would I be dancing like John Travolta in your dream?" Otis asked, confused.

"I don't fucking know," Maeve snapped. "Why did Kermit The Frog want to fuck me?"

"What?" asked Otis, startled.

"It was a fucking weird dream," she said dismissively.

"You have to tell me," Otis almost begged.

"Do you want to hear about my dream last night or do you want to hear about Kermit The Frog's penis?"

"Kermit The Frog's penis," Otis said.

"Fuck off," Maeve laughed.

"I didn't even know he had a penis," Otis said, grinning in incredulity.

"I bet you didn't know Miss Piggy has a vagina, either. And I don't know what the fuck that thing Gonzo had was."

"You have to tell me."

"Not tonight."

Otis let out a mock-disappointed 'awww'.

"I'm trying to tell you about my sexy dream about us and you just want to hear about me having sex with a muppet," Maeve said, mock-annoyed.

"I am your cookie monster," Otis said plaintively.

Maeve was quiet for a moment. "That's different," she said, tersely.

"I'm sorry," Otis said, laughing softly. "Go on."

"You've spoilt it now," Maeve said, mock-petulantly.

"I was doing all these John Travolta moves…" Otis urged her to continue.

Maeve was quiet for a moment then said, "You were. Just… all around the dance floor. You were so sexy. God, you were sexy," she breathed.

Otis wished the kitchen light was a little brighter on her face.

"And then you did a thing with your jacket where you just somehow took it off and flung it away. All in one movement. It was so impressive. I was getting wet."

"In the dream?" Otis asked.

"In real life, too. I knew that when I woke up."

"Women can have wet dreams, too," Otis murmured.

"I found that out these last few months. You're very educational, Milburn."

Otis smiled gently at her. "What happened next?"

"I remember Eric catching the jacket and then everyone was gone. The music was still playing but the kids were gone and the band was gone and it was just us."

"Still dancing?"

"Still dancing," Maeve said. "You did a few more of those—" She mimed a few Travolta moves. "And then you just stood in front of me and you reached up and just touched the shoulders of my dress and _pfff,_ it's on the floor."

"Were you naked?" Otis quietly asked.

"I had pants on," Maeve said, then reconsidered. "No, knickers. Lacy knickers."

Otis was puzzled. "What's the difference?"

"Pants are practical. Knickers are more… decorative."

"Oh, well, then you were definitely wearing knickers in my dream."

Maeve smiled gently.

"Did I take them off you?" Otis asked quietly.

"Mmm-mmm," Maeve confirmed. "You just reached out, put your fingers in the band and pulled—" she mimed the movement. "—and they were off me. You didn't tear them off me. They were just off me. Like they were supposed to break apart."

Otis took in a deep breath.

"And then you took my hand, made me do a few twirls. You know?" She raised her hand and twirled her finger. "And then you told me to grab your tie."

"Is that a euphemism?" Otis asked, scrunching his face.

"Nup. Grab your tie and pull and I did and _foomp_. Everything's on the floor. Even your shoes and socks were gone. So were my shoes."

"Was I wearing boxers or briefs?"

"Full commando," Maeve said, smirking.

"I never go full commando."

"It's my dream. You'll go full commando if I tell you to."

"Was I…?" Otis began to ask, tentatively.

"Full on. Hard as. Pointing to the sky."

"I'm pointing to the sky right now," Otis murmured.

Maeve smirked gently then moved her head slightly as if to look under the table at him.

"What did we do next?" Otis asked.

"We danced a little more. Twirls. Like we did up in your room. Did that one where you twirl me out and back in and you're embracing me from behind."

"What's that one called?"

"Dunno."

"What next?"

Maeve was quiet for a moment. "How much detail do you want?" she asked quietly.

Otis was quiet for a moment. "Details," he said softly.

Maeve nodded. "We did a few more twirls and then you grabbed me here-" She put her hands just under her breasts. "—and you lifted me up." She raised her hands up. "You were twirling your thumbs around my headlights," Maeve continued.

"Headlights," Otis murmured, shaking his head.

"Full high beam," Maeve said proudly.

"What happened then?"

"You swung me to the left and to the right and then you brought me down," Maeve said softly. "_Foomp_. Right onto it."

She could hear him release a long breath.

"Then… well, you know what happens then…" she said quietly.

They were silent for a few moments then Otis said, "I don't think I'd be strong enough to do that."

"Put me up against a wall, you never know," Maeve said, soft smirk in her tone.

"Have you done that before?"

"I don't think that's the sort of question you should ask, Otis," Maeve said gently.

"Sorry," he said softly.

"You'll learn the no-go areas," she said quietly.

"Sorry," he repeated.

* * *

Maeve put out her cigarette in the sea-shell and studied Otis.

"Do you think you need to talk to someone before tasting me?" she asked softly.

Otis stared at her for a moment then murmured, "No."

"Okay," she said, standing up and patting the table. "Is this table strong enough?"

"I think so," Otis said softly, standing and pushing his chair back a little.

Maeve stared softly at his arousal in the half-light from the kitchen then stepped to him, wrapping her hand around him as she reached up to kiss him.

"I don't need you to earn a blowjob by going down on me first," she murmured.

"You don't have to, Maeve. Don't do it for me."

"It's not just for you. I have an idea I may enjoy it," she smirked and released him and moved backward toward the end of the table.

"If the table tilts," she said, "catch me."

"It shouldn't. It's pretty stable."

Maeve slowly perched herself on the end of the table, relaxing when it didn't tilt and spreading her legs.

Otis reached behind himself, grabbed the cushion from the chair and dropped it at his feet.

Maeve smiled. "You already know comfort is the most important thing," she murmured.

Otis dropped to his knees on the cushion then gazed at her clit and little labs for a moment. They really did look beautiful.

"Take it as slowly as you need," Maeve murmured.

He took in a gentle breath and used his thumbs to part her pink shutters before leaning forward, releasing his tongue and slowly running it the length of her little labs before flicking her love button.

Maeve drew in a gasping breath at the pleasure and gently stroked Otis' hair as his tongue moved back down to lick her flaps.

"Vanilla or strawberry?" she reminded herself to ask.

He raised his head from her and looked into her eyes and said, "Maeve."

She smiled as he dropped his head again and flicked his tongue across her clit before once again moving to her shutters. When he gently poked it against her entrance, she gave a soft moan.

She closed her eyes, leant her head back.

"Is this feeling good?" she heard him ask.

"Feels real good," she murmured and then was pleased as he returned his tongue to her.

Truthfully, he was clearly a little nervous and he didn't seem quite as skilled as he had with his fingers – and she was glad because it would be too freakish if he was really good at everything – but the feeling of him working on her down there was so good anyway.

She wouldn't say a word to him tonight about the things she liked best. She liked allowing him to find his own way and had been glad he had waited until tonight to begin checking in so much when he was fingering her.

She drew in another shuddering breath as he ran his tongue fully across her clit.

She wondered if he would be able to make her crest this way then moaned as his tongue once again flicked across her little labs.

"Otis, I—" said Jean as she stepped onto the balcony.

* * *

Otis flung himself backwards, knocking against the chair. "Fuck," he yelled.

Maeve opened her eyes and leapt from the table. "Shit," she hissed.

"Ohmigod, I'm sorry," said Jean as she averted her gaze and hurriedly retreated into the kitchen.

"Fuck," said Otis as he struggled to his feet.

"God," said Maeve as she steadied herself against him.

"I'm sorry," called Jean from her hiding place in the kitchen.

Otis and Maeve looked at each other, hearts pounding, not knowing what to do next.

"Where are your clothes?" Jean called.

Otis frowned and Maeve shrugged and Otis looked around the balcony.

"Your clothes, Otis," Jean called.

Otis stared at Maeve and she nodded and waved her hands to indicate he should answer.

"They're… they're in the wash," Otis said.

"Oh," they heard Jean say. "Um…" she continued.

"Your room," Maeve whispered.

Otis nodded, relieved there was something he could latch onto. "We're going to my room, mum. Don't—"

"I'm not looking. I'm not looking," Jean called.

Otis and Maeve looked at each other and nodded then Maeve dashed for the door, Otis close behind, covering himself as best he could.

Maeve risked a glance toward Jean and saw she was leaning against the bench near the sink, staring down into it, hand raised to cover her eye from their passageway.

Otis stared straight ahead, following Maeve's retreating form.

When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he called, "We'll see you in the morning, mum."

They dashed up the stairs and along the hallway and into his room. Otis slammed the door behind himself and leant against it, panting.

Maeve turned to look at him, eyes wide.

"I didn't hear the car," she said.

"Neither did I," he replied.

They held their gaze, stunned by events, then Maeve bit her lip as a smile began to creep onto her face.

"Shit," she almost laughed.

Otis frowned at her for a moment then leant his head back against the door and released a soft chuckle. "I think mum's traumatised me again."

* * *

**Author's Notes: And that seems a good place to end it for now.**

**The cactus line belongs to insanity_keeps_things_fun who was kind enough to allow me to use it.**

**Most of this was written the day after the previous chapter was published – and then I took the sex scenes out – and then I put the sex scenes back in – rinse and repeat. When I finally decided to put them back for good, I added a few scenes in the middle to hopefully make it flow better.**

**I promise I'll take a break from the sex soon. I still don't want them to have full sex until after he sees someone.**

**For those who think I have moved too fast to get them to this point and I've gone splat beneath the tightrope, I'm sorry.**

**For those who are still enjoying it, thank you.**

**I have no idea what I was thinking when the Kermit line leapt from my mind to the screen but apologies to Jim Henson.**


	20. Chapter 20

**Author's Notes: Thank you all for your kind comments and continued reading. (Chapters 18 and 19 seem very popular for some reason.****)**

**One day I should go back and smooth out the contradictions.**

**Chapter 18: I'll poke your eyes out.**

**Chapter 19: I don't want to poke your eyes out.**

**And somewhere I referred to Maeve's blue eyes.**

**(Edited to add after a guest review (thank you):**

**Chapter 17: Maeve's PIN is 'clinic17'.**

**Chapter 20: Maeve - What's a lock screen?**

**In my defense, Maeve was joking but I didn't make that clear enough so I'll clarify.)**

***Sigh***

**More sex stuff ahead. And Kermit The Frog.**

* * *

**Chapter 20**

Maeve gave a small yawn as she snuggled naked into Otis who was also naked beneath the bed covers.

"Bunch of jerks were cat-calling me," she murmured. "I had green in my hair then so they were going 'Are your pubes green?' Calling me Kermit."

"I'm sorry I said that."

Maeve was confused for a moment, then realised. "No, it's okay for you to say it. You're my boyfriend. You were cute. They were just creeps."

"I wish you didn't have to put up with that shit. I wish no woman had to put up with it."

"Yeah."

"I still don't understand why that would make you dream of having sex with Kermit The Frog."

Maeve blushed a little. "I had a stuffed Kermit The Frog," she said, sheepishly. "It didn't have a penis but I still had it on the bed and I was cuddling it that night. Not because I was soppy and shit but he reminded me of moments when it wasn't so hard. It was tiring, even back then."

Otis was silent for a while then asked quietly, "Was that after Simon Furthassle?"

"Yeah. I was fourteen. Almost fifteen. Claire stopped hanging around right after the bullshit started. Patti tried but she was getting shit as well so she stopped. No pity, remember?" she gently admonished him, knowing the look that would be on his face.

"Sorry, I just… you deserve so much better than what you've had to deal with."

"At least I had Aimee."

"I'm sorry I ever doubted her."

"You should be."

* * *

"I was just sitting at the top of the rise overlooking the caravans and he sat next to me," Maeve murmured, stifling another yawn. "Said I looked a little sad and was there anything he could do to help."

"Was he naked at that point?"

"Kermit's always naked. Except for his collar."

"Okay, I mean-"

"Are you always going to keep interrupting when I try to tell you about my dreams?"

"Sorry. I'll be quiet."

"One more interruption and I'll poke your eyes out."

"I thought you said you didn't want to poke my 'beautiful blue eyes' out," Otis said with a smirk.

"You're pissing me off. Threats of sex haven't worked so I'll go back to physical harm."

Otis tenderly kissed her hair. "I promise I'll let you tell your story."

Maeve raised her head and tenderly looked at him.

"What?" he asked.

"Just wanted to see Sexy Otis," she murmured.

"What's the difference to Cute Otis?" Otis asked, frowning.

Maeve shifted position so she could tenderly kiss him.

"That was Sexy Otis I was kissing," she said when it finished. "Our first kiss was Cute Otis."

"When I'm more comfortable, I'm sexy?"

"Yeah," she said. "Confidence is sexy. Courage is sexy. Pushing through the fear so we could do all this. That's been sexy. Doing my laundry was really sexy."

"You've been courageous, too," Otis murmured. "Trusting me."

Maeve lay her head down again.

"I had a few second thoughts, too, but I've seen how quickly you can turn things around after you fuck up," she said.

"What do you mean?"

"The first clinic session. You fucked up telling us you gave a chinchilla a blowjob—"

"I said I saw chinchillas giving themselves blowjobs," Otis protested, mock-frustrated.

"—Then a day later you gave a clinic session in the bathroom and the next time Olivia said you were better at it. Giving advice. Not giving chinchillas blowjobs."

"You know I'm going to keep looking until I find something to get you with? Frog-fucker."

Maeve raised her head and grinned at him, eyes glittering. "See? Cute Otis would never have said that."

"You think calling you frog-fucker is sexy?"

"Sean and mum used to call me frog-face so why shouldn't I fuck frogs?"

"Why frog-face?"

"No idea. They just kept telling me I looked like a frog."

"They're blind."

* * *

Maeve moved slightly to snuggle a little closer against Otis.

"He was a real gentleman – gentlefrog. Held his hand out to help me to my feet. Kissed my hand sweetly. Must have seen that in some movie 'cause I liked it. Then he took me to an orgy at Aimee's house."

Otis chuckled, shaking his head. "Why would you be dreaming about a muppet orgy?"

Maeve shrugged. "Caught Sean watching some porn. I'd had sex by that point and I'd heard of orgies but seeing one…"

"Yeah, I was surprised the first time Eric showed me one."

"I'm surprised watching Gonzo have sex with Miss Piggy didn't turn me off sex for life."

"You need to watch a movie called _Meet The Feebles_."

"What's that?"

"Basically, the muppets on acid."

"Do you have it?"

"I think I've still got it. I'll look for it."

Maeve stifled a yawn. "Aimee and Patti and Claire were there with Grover, Oscar and Elmo. That was really strange. I was a little shy so Aimee told me we could use her room. So me and Kermit went into her room and made out. That's when he suddenly had a penis. It was really big for a frog. Like, twice the size of Adam, relatively."

"Was he a good lover?"

"He was brilliant. You'll have a lot to live up to."

"I'll try my best. When we get around to it."

Maeve looked up at him.

"Do you think I'm weird?" she asked.

"Lily told mum, Jakob and me about her tentacle porn comic. Your dream has nothing on her."

Maeve yawned and glanced at the clock. "I'm going to have to go to sleep. What time's your alarm set?"

"Seven."

"That'll do."

"You okay trying to sleep like this?"

"We can see how we go."

Maeve leant over and kissed him then settled down against him.

"Good night, cookie monster," she murmured.

* * *

**Day 5**

Otis opened his eyes and glanced at the clock. 6:55. He was surprised since he rarely woke up before the alarm.

Maeve's body against him felt comforting and safe and, as memories of the last 48 hours came flooding back to him, miraculous.

He could still barely believe he had come this far in such a short time.

It was as if Maeve kissing him had created the first crack in the wall which had allowed him to start claiming his sexual thoughts

and touching her breast without consciously choosing to had revealed to him the truth of his sexual desires

and fingering her had shown himself his willingness and ability to try to move beyond his shit

and the panic attack had shown him everything he was trying to move away from

and talking with her afterward had shown him a way to move forward

and failing to let her wank him off to completion demonstrated his need to push himself if he was never going to be dragged back into that corner

and Mum's words had clarified the single thing that had really been holding him back

and last night Maeve had allowed him to let the dam burst so he could be carried along with the flow.

It had been the right thing to do and the proof for him was this moment of lying next to her as her body reflected the peacefulness of her sleep.

He contemplated her words to him just before he went down on her and realised he would have to let her know she was half right.

The alarm went off and he felt her stir against him.

She gave a sudden start and looked around then relaxed as understanding washed through her.

He reached over to turn off the alarm then gazed down at her as she looked up at him.

"Morning," he murmured.

"Mmmm," she hummed.

* * *

"Did you dream about Kermit?" he asked quietly.

"No," she murmured, snuggling against him. "Dreamt I was floating down the Danube in a hatbox and John Travolta rescued me."

"Is he your other celebrity crush?"

"I thought it was Brad Pitt but must be. Who's yours?"

"I like Margot Robbie."

"Psycho chick or trophy wife?"

"Did anyone ever tell you that you look a little bit like her?"

"Never," sighed Maeve. "Never once in my life has anyone ever said that I look like Margot Robbie. Not once. Not at school. Not at the caravan park. Not when I'm picking up milk at the supermarket. Not on the bus. Not at the movies. Nobody has ever said that to me. You're the first."

"Sorry."

"I'm going to have to change the hair," she muttered.

"Did you get that from the movie?"

"Are you saying I'm a pale imitation of Margot Robbie?"

"No, I'm saying that Margot is the prototype and you're the final release."

"Is that really why you were intrigued by me? 'Cause it's the closest you'll ever get to banging Margot Robbie?"

"Never occurred to me," Otis said with a smirk. "Frog-fucker."

Maeve rose and leant over him and kissed him gently.

"You don't know what you've started with that one," she warned.

* * *

"I just had a desire to keep pushing," he murmured. "And I didn't have to hide my feelings anymore so that made it easier. And I really wanted to be… more intimate with you."

He leaned his head closer to her.

"That's a fancy way of saying I was horny," he whispered.

Maeve looked up at him, smiling gently.

"I'm not joking," he said. "I had three erections while you were at work."

"Christ. I hope they were because of me."

"Two of them were."

"What was the other one?"

Otis pressed his lips together. "I looked at some cheese," he said, sheepishly.

"What?" Maeve laughed.

"They may not be connected but it happened after I looked at some cheese."

"What type of cheese?"

"Brie," he said. "Is there any connection between you and brie?"

"I've eaten brie."

"Did you ever eat it while I was with you? Or just before we hung out and I smelt it on you?"

Maeve thought for a moment. "Can't remember."

"It's bugging me."

"God, we are so soft," she sighed, contentedly.

"I wish you didn't have to go to work," he murmured.

"Mmmmm," Maeve hummed wistfully.

"I've put aside the money from the clinic. What if I paid you what you would get from your shift and we can spend the day together?"

"Rent-a-girlfriend?"

"Something like that."

She sighed. "Can't dib out on them. Need to let them know I'm—" She imitated Sylvester The Cat. "—'_responsible'_. Just in case I do get more hours."

"Have you ever thought of anything else you could do?"

"There's the obvious."

Otis stared down at her, face scrunching.

"Not that desperate. Yet," she said.

"You could be a tutor."

"Get real," she sneered.

"Instead of writing people's essays you could help them draw out the themes for themselves. Write them in their own voices."

"Who's going to pay Cock-biter to come into their houses and tutor them?"

"I hate that name," Otis muttered, bitterly.

Maeve put on her fake accent. "Not overly fond of it meself, lad."

"What the hell was that?" Otis asked, face scrunching.

"Private joke between me and Aimee."

"Not private anymore."

"You come up with an accent," she challenged him.

He thought for a moment then said, "Is this the sorta thing you're after, girl?"

"What's that supposed to be?"

"A Beatles accent," said Otis.

Maeve rolled her eyes. "Keep trying, Ringo."

* * *

Maeve stared gently at the bulge in the bed covers. "You haven't panicked," she said quietly.

"No. I haven't," murmured Otis.

"Is it going to go away by itself?"

"I don't think so, this time."

"We've got a bit of time. Do you want me to take care of it?"

"Do you want me to take care of you?"

"Fingers or tongue?"

"Which would you prefer?"

Maeve gazed at him for a moment then murmured, "I think fingers this morning."

"Was I any good last night?" he asked, hesitantly.

"It felt really good, cookie monster."

"That's not what I asked."

"You were good."

"Honesty, remember?"

Maeve took a breath and sighed. "It felt good but you…"

"Need more practice?"

"It felt really good," Maeve said earnestly.

"Lots of practice?" Otis asked, gentle smile on his lips.

A wave of relief washed through her. "Yeah. Lots of practice."

"Lots and lots of practice?"

She pressed her lips together in a smile. "Lots and lots of practice."

"Lots and lots and lots of practice?"

"Lots and lots and lots."

"Do you know anybody who could help me with that?"

"I might."

"Aimee?"

"Fuck you," said Maeve, laughing. "Just for that, you can take care of yourself. And keep those fingers away from me."

* * *

The bed covers had been tossed aside and as they kissed, Otis' fingers rubbed Maeve's clit and between her little labs and her hand held him and her fingers stroked across his tip, concentrating on his corona and his blowhole.

Their lips parted and they gently rubbed noses.

"Can I concentrate on you for a bit?" Otis asked.

Maeve nodded and released him and made a little mewl in the back of her throat as his fingers brushed her entrance.

"Are you sure that's not a kitten?" Otis asked.

"Baby lion," said Maeve through mock-gritted teeth.

"Your cumface doesn't look anything like a lion."

"What does it look like?"

Otis thought for a moment. "Like a goddess giving birth to a universe."

Maeve looked at him, nose scrunching. "Maybe you shouldn't try for the too poetical."

"Well, you're the writer," he said as he slipped two fingers inside her and smiled gently as she gasped and arched her back.

"Take a video and let me see and I'll try to come up with something," she said as he stroked her walls the furthest his fingers could reach.

"You'd let me take a video even after the shit with Ruby?" he asked as he brought his fingers back to the most sensitive part of her.

"I'm not expecting you to send it to anyone," she moaned as he swirled his fingers around her girl button.

"I could get hacked," he said as he rubbed his thumb across her clit.

"Then use something that can't get hacked," she said as her hips involuntarily lifted her arse from the bed. "Now shut the fuck up and just finger me."

Otis smiled to himself. "You gave birth to my new universe, Gaia," he said softly as he rubbed her g-spot faster.

"I'm not a fucking earth mother," Maeve forced out as she felt herself starting to crest too fucking soon.

* * *

Maeve's fingers stroked his cheek as they lost themselves in a marathon of kissing.

When they took a breather, Maeve looked at him, concerned. "Do you think Jean would have heard me?"

"I wasn't thinking of that," Otis said after a moment.

"You said sound carries."

"You weren't that loud," he said, reassuringly if only technically truthful in comparison to last night.

"It sounded loud."

Otis gently kissed her. "Then maybe she'll take the hint for the future."

"Sexy Otis really doesn't freak out, does he?" she murmured with a gentle smirk.

"Mum will think we've had actual sex and the only thing she'll be concerned about is if we used protection."

"Are you going to tell her we didn't have sex?"

"I want to tell it's none of her business."

"Just change the subject."

"That never works."

Maeve scrunched her lips. "Whatever. I'm not ashamed of my enthusiasm."

"Neither am I," murmured Otis after a moment.

Maeve studied his face then asked, "So, my turn?" She waggled her fingers and gave him a sultry smile.

She watched him as he studied her and she sensed he had something significant he wanted to say.

"What's wrong?" she asked, gently concerned.

She watched him make his final decision to speak.

"You were only half-right last night," Otis murmured.

"About what?"

"Earning a blowjob."

Maeve drew her head back slightly and looked at him, quizzically.

"It wasn't from you," he said. "Earning it from you. It was earning it from me."

Maeve kept silent as he gathered the rest of his thoughts.

"If I finger you first then it's okay to get a handjob from you. If I go down on you first then it's okay to get a blowjob from you. Doing for you was giving me permission _from me_ to want. I don't mean going down on you means you owe me a blowjob but it's okay for me to want one and it's okay for me to accept if you offer one. If we're both in the mood. Am I making sense?"

Maeve nodded, a small smile curling her lips.

He spoke tentatively. "I know I haven't managed to get you off with my tongue yet but, if you're in the mood, would you go down on me? Just a little bit. It doesn't have to be to the finish."

Maeve nodded.

* * *

Otis spread his legs wider and Maeve clambered eagerly to lie between them. She looked up at him and grabbed his penis and started stroking, hoping she wouldn't make him come before she got started.

"Okay, ground rules," she said, matter-of-factly. "Don't grab the back of my head and shove me on it."

"I wouldn't." Otis promised.

"That one _doesn't_ come under the 'Sorry, I got lost in the moment' rule." She strongly emphasized the word 'doesn't'.

"I'd never do that. I've seen it in porn when I was researching for Olivia and I hate it. I kind of wish the woman would bite it."

"Yeah, well, just remember what they call me."

"Will not forget," Otis promised and Maeve smiled at the mock-solemnity covering his sincerity.

"Don't come in my mouth without checking with me first," she continued.

"I wouldn't do that either."

"Sometimes I don't mind."

"Why?" asked Otis, genuinely puzzled.

"Because sometimes I don't mind."

"Okay," said Otis, dubiously.

"Try to let me know when it's going to happen. I don't like being surprised."

"I'll try."

"I mean, timing can get out of whack sometimes so it happens, but if you do it deliberately when I haven't agreed, I'll spit it in your face."

"I'd never do it deliberately if you haven't agreed," he said, not sure if he could even if she had agreed.

"And related to that," she said, smirking, "eat more pineapple. It's good for your health."

"I've heard that," Otis said, slight smile on his lips.

Maeve gazed into his eyes for a long moment then softly asked, "You ready?"

He nodded and she could see his nervous anticipation.

"Try to keep watching me. I like looking into your eyes."

She stopped stroking his cock and slowly, her eyes locked onto his, moved her head closer to him and stuck out her tongue and tenderly licked him from base to tip, loving the sound of his gasp and the slight shudder that went through him as she moved across his blowhole.

* * *

Otis watched Maeve's tongue flicker around his glans, across his blowhole, along his corona, against his frenulum. The feeling of her tongue against that sensitive skin was indescribable. He had seen blowjobs in porn – had even briefly thought of her doing this during one of the three times he had wanked yesterday while she was at work – but the reality of how it felt was so far beyond anything he had imagined.

He loved the look in her eyes as she kept hers on his and he hoped he would remember to look at her next time he was licking her clit and downstairs lips.

He wondered if she was really enjoying this as much as he had enjoyed licking her out. Of course, he had her juices to taste – and very nice they had tasted – and she had only that sensitive skin, maybe a little pre-cum, but she seemed to be enjoying it. Was that for the act itself or the knowledge that she was doing something for him that was making him feel so good?

He wished Eric had a boyfriend so he could discuss the nature of the enjoyment of giving blowjobs with him.

He had no need to discuss the nature of the enjoyment of receiving them.

All ponderings vanished from his mind as Maeve ran the underside of her tongue across the top of his cock and he suspected he was not going to take long to explode.

"Like?" she asked as she drew her head back slightly and smiled up at him.

"It's incredible," he breathed.

"So how about this?" she said with a smirk and pressed her lips against his tip and took him inside her mouth, her gaze dropping away from him.

Otis stopped breathing as he watched himself disappear further into her mouth than he expected to go and felt her lips sliding across his ridge and down his shaft and felt himself sliding across her tongue and – was that actually the back of her throat - then he felt and saw her lips moving away from his base and felt himself sliding off her tongue and saw the moisture glistening off his skin as more of himself emerged from her mouth and he felt as if he was going to come right then.

"Maev—" he tried to get out urgently.

She snatched her head away and looked at him with concern.

"Too much?"

He shook his head and steadied his breathing.

"Good…" he said. "But I think…" he continued, "I could come any second and I'm not sure I could give you warning."

Maeve relaxed and smiled. "Okay. If it's in my mouth, it's in my mouth."

"Are you sure?" he asked, concerned. "I'm not…"

Maeve simply stared at him.

"Okay," he nodded.

"Just try to let me know if you can."

* * *

Maeve ran her tongue the length of him and took him in her mouth again, sliding her lips down him until he was as far inside her as she wanted to take him then withdrawing until her lips were almost at his ridge and then she began her regular rhythm when needing to be reasonably quick, not too deep and always with lots of tongue-work.

She gazed up at him, smiling to herself at his wide eyes and open mouth that made him look like one of those clown-heads at the fair except he was staring straight at her, not wandering an unseeing gaze back and forth across the vista before him.

This wasn't her favourite position – cricked her neck if she took too long before getting the guy off or having him inside her – but she always liked this way the first time, so she could see him and the reaction she was creating and he could see her and the intimacy she was sharing with him and not just seeing the back of her hair as her head bobbed up and down.

She brought her head back so her lips were just covering his ridge and swirled her tongue around his tip. The hitches in his breathing proved how much he enjoyed the feeling and then Maeve heard him half-call out her name and tap her arm and as he groaned she welcomed the surprisingly sweet warm taste on her tongue.

As she watched his cumface, she realised she had a great way to visit with Cute Otis any time she liked.

* * *

Their tongues were entwined in a kiss and Maeve was glad he was not one of those guys who were reluctant to kiss afterwards. Too many had been but she loved this intimacy so soon after that intimacy.

When they parted, he looked into her eyes and murmured, "I'm not sure."

"Doesn't matter," Maeve said. "You didn't taste bad."

"Needs more pineapple?"

"A little more pineapple never goes astray."

"You tasted really nice," he said tenderly.

"Not too salty?"

"No, you were kind of sweet."

"You, too," said Maeve, surprised.

"You don't need more pineapple."

Maeve frowned as a thought occurred. "I should have had a test before I let you go down."

It took Otis a moment to understand the implication. "You've used protection, haven't you?"

"Doesn't always work, remember?" she said, wryly.

"I should have had a test, too. I wasn't thinking. I was too interested in pushing forward."

"No, you've never—"

"I should still get tested," he said, firmly.

Maeve nodded and smiled at the support. "The clinic does testing, too."

"Okay, we can go this week. Tuesday? I'm hanging with Eric on Monday and you said Aimee was dropping off school stuff."

"Tuesday," she agreed.

"So we just put oral sex aside until we get the results."

"Can still pick up stuff from kissing."

"We'll wear hazmat suits."

"Might limit the enjoyment."

"We'll figure it out," he smirked, leaning over to kiss her.

"Better get moving," Maeve said, glancing at the clock. "You wanna have a shower together? You can wash my back."

* * *

Jean sat at the balcony table, reading the Sunday paper as Maeve and Otis hesitantly emerged from the kitchen, each carrying a bowl of cereal.

"Good morning," Jean said as they sat at the table.

"Morning, Jean."

"Morning, mum."

"Sleep well?" Jean asked, blandly.

"Mmmm," said Maeve, through a spoonful of cereal.

"Yeah," said Otis and took a spoonful of cereal.

"Good," said Jean.

Maeve and Otis looked at each other, keeping silent as they ate their breakfast.

"Did you make a nice meal last night?" Jean asked.

"Lemon butter chicken breasts," Otis said.

"They were really nice," Maeve said. "You were right, he really is a good cook."

"I'm glad my sales pitch wasn't off the mark," Jean said.

"We also had strawberry cheesecake," Maeve said. "That was nice, too."

"I didn't make that," Otis said.

"That was always Otis' favourite as a child," Jean said.

She turned the page in her newspaper.

"Now I realise last night was a temporary embarrassment for all of us," Jean said, "but I assure you the only thing I'm concerned about is that you use protection."

Otis grimaced and Maeve bit her lip.

When she realised her boyfriend wasn't going to speak, she said, "We both understand the importance of proper protection."

"Good," said Jean.

Otis gave Maeve an apologetic look and began eating faster, hoping to get away as soon as he could.

"I also understand the appeal of sex in open areas," Jean continued, "and the desire to take advantage of the lack of other people during my absence however—"

"We didn't hear the car," Maeve said, quickly.

"No," said Otis.

"I suppose you were preoccupied at the time," Jean murmured.

"Mum," Otis whined softly.

"I _am_ pleased to know that you are treating female pleasure with the importance I've tried to impart to you, Otis."

"Mum," Otis whined more loudly.

"Um, Jean…" said Maeve, quietly.

"Your generation has so many hangups when it comes to the discussion of sexuality," Jean said with a sigh.

"It's not a conversation for the breakfast table in front of my girlfriend," Otis muttered.

"I kind of agree with Otis," Maeve murmured, scrunching her face. "Sorry."

Jean looked at her and took note of the girl's concern.

"I'll be going over to Southclyde this morning, Otis," Jean said, changing the subject. "Is there anything you would like me to pick up?"

"Oh, Maeve is working over at Southclyde," Otis said, pleased. "Would you be able to give her a lift?"

"Where do you work?" Jean asked Maeve.

"Speedy Grill," Maeve replied.

"What time does your shift start?"

"Ten."

"Certainly. I'll be leaving 9:20. That okay?"

"That's perfect. I can get the bus back tonight. Thanks, Jean," said Maeve, gratefully.

"Thanks, mum."

"We'll be able to have a nice chat," said Jean and sipped her coffee.

* * *

Maeve was dressed in her Speedy Grill uniform, kissing Otis as they stood on his front porch. Jean was halfway up the stairs to the car, watching them.

"Don't let her try to therapize you," Otis said.

"Do you want me to say anything to her?" Maeve asked.

"You don't have to."

"If it comes up?"

Otis nodded.

"Anything specific you want me to say?" Maeve asked.

"I trust you."

Maeve gave him a mischievous grin.

"I'll call you tonight?" he asked.

"Let me call you. I'll have dinner first."

"Okay."

She kissed him again. "Better go."

She turned away but stopped as Otis touched her shoulder.

"Wait," he said.

Maeve turned back and looked at him quizzically then with amused affection as he took her hand and raised it to his lips and kissed it.

When he released it, he asked, "Was that better than the frog?"

Maeve crinkled her nose and shook her head. "Need more practice," she said, turning and walking up the stairs, grinning to herself.

Otis wistfully watched her depart.

As she passed the softly smiling Jean, Maeve muttered, "He's making me soft in the head."

* * *

Jean let there be silence until she turned onto the main road then glanced at Maeve and asked, "How embarrassed _was_ Otis last night?"

"A bit," Maeve said after a moment. "He spent half an hour looking for his passport and wondering what country to emigrate to."

Maeve glanced at Jean, uncertain how to read her expression.

"No, he saw the funny side of it," Maeve said.

"Are _you_ still embarrassed?"

"A little," Maeve said after a moment.

"It passes. I can't remember how many times Remi and I were caught by either his parents or mine. Remi is Otis' father."

Maeve bit her lip and looked out the window. "He's told me."

"Am I making you uncomfortable?" Jean asked.

"No," Maeve said, not entirely truthfully.

Jean glanced at her. "Are you concerned I might be upset about you using the same table where we just had breakfast? Don't be."

"It's a little unhygienic," Maeve murmured.

"Don't tell Otis but that and the kitchen table have seen their own share of events over the years. They clean up."

Maeve smiled to herself.

Jean was quiet for a moment, then said, "I know we've only just met but you've known Otis for some months—"

"I'm not going to snitch, Jean," Maeve said then winced at herself, biting her lip with regret.

"I understand. I'm not asking you to. Don't say anything you think Otis would be upset with me knowing," Jean said, reassuringly.

Maeve studied Jean, wondering what she was getting at.

"You seemed to agree with Otis that I went too far this morning," Jean said.

Maeve was silent, uncertain how to respond.

"You can be honest with me," Jean said. "It's good to have a perspective from someone else who cares about him."

"He cares about you," Maeve said. "He told me he knew you were always there for him when he needed you."

Jean felt a soft rawness in her throat.

"I don't think he'll mind me telling you that," Maeve murmured.

"I hope not," Jean said, quietly. "We should always let the people we love know we love them."

Silence settled over them for a while.

"I just feel being open is a good thing," Jean finally said. "Sexuality is a part of our existence and there's nothing shameful about exploring each other's bodies, generating pleasure for each other. Nothing shameful about discussing it in an open and honest manner."

Maeve stared out the window.

"I just feel many of the hang-ups in too many people of your generation could be better served if they could discuss sexuality and sexual behaviour more freely," Jean said.

"Mum used to talk to me about boys and sex after I first got my friendlies," Maeve said, quietly.

"There you go. You call them your friendlies, rather than your periods. People use all these euphemisms as if open discussion of the menstrual cycle is something shameful so it has to be hidden behind a… a… a… kaleidoscope of distancing words."

"Clinical words can seem so harsh and distancing sometimes," Maeve murmured after a moment.

"I understand, Maeve," Jean said. "I do have my own euphemisms for various sex-related terms – jizz, man-milk, hotrod, the canyon, facemask, reverse entry—"

Maeve wondered if Jean was going to go through all the euphemisms she knew.

"—shower curtains, love button, going to California, pleasant fountain—"

Maeve felt she was beginning to understand Otis a little better.

"—bible class, love pumping, yodelling – but I save them for more intimate moments. You and I should be able to talk about menstruation or intercourse or cunnilingus using their proper terms."

Jean glanced across at Maeve.

"Or not," Jean murmured. "I'm sorry. I shall return the horse to the stable."

"It's okay," Maeve said. "I just…"

Jean glanced at her and decided to keep quiet.

"It's different," began Maeve. "A woman talking to a woman. My mum used to try talking to Sean all the time about girls and sex – Sean's my brother – but he's a three-Fs kind of guy. Didn't want to know."

"Find 'em, fuck 'em and flee," Jean muttered with a tinge of contempt in her voice.

"Otis isn't like that," Maeve said quickly. "But…"

"You don't have to say anything if you don't want to, Maeve," Jean said quietly.

"I understand being open. If you were my mum, if you weren't Otis' mum, I'd be fine talking about it. I think. But… sometimes being too much about openness can have the opposite effect."

Jean was silent for a few moments. "You think my attempts to instill a sense of comfort and familiarity with sexuality – to normalise it - instead has had the opposite effect on Otis?"

Maeve couldn't find the words to answer her.

"Do you think his father would have been the better person to deliver that information?"

"I don't know his dad," Maeve said, hoping she had kept anything untoward out of her voice.

Jean was silent for a long while then sighed and said, "So now you've seen Otis' crazy over-sharing no-boundaries mum in full action, I hope you don't let that affect your feelings for him."

"I don't think you're crazy, Jean," Maeve said with a soft smile. "At least you care about him."

Jean glanced at her but kept silent.

"You really _are_ his mum," Maeve said after moment, soft wonderment and admiration in her voice.

"What do you mean?"

"I've told you both things I haven't told anyone," Maeve said quietly. "You both allow me to relax."

"This has been you relaxed, has it?" Jean said with a soft smile.

"Well," Maeve said, softly smiling. "Sometimes you allow me to relax. Muppet allows me to relax a lot."

"I'm sorry that I've made you feel uncomfortable, Maeve. I'll stop."

Maeve nodded and looked out the window.

"If you like having sex outside," Jean continued as a thought occurred to her, "there's a bench and table down near the river right next to a little inlet. The inlet's virtually undetectable and only people on the river can see you on the table. Remi and I are certain we conceived Otis there."

Maeve was silent and Jean glanced across at her.

"Maybe we can listen to some music for the rest of the trip," Jean said. "Alanis Morissette is in the player."

* * *

Otis lay on his bed, phone held out before him, masturbating to the photos of Maeve in her Speedy Grill top, hoping she had been giving him implicit permission when she allowed him to have them.

She had – of course she had – and the mild feelings of guilt he felt were just a sign that healing was a spiral – and of course she meant for him to be doing this if he wanted to – and he probably should let her know – and not pretend he was asking permission first – and could just a few hours away from her lead to him sliding back – and god she was gorgeous - and he wasn't objectifying her - he was appreciating her in one of the ways she wanted him to appreciate her - and of course she knew he loved her intelligence and sense of humour and-

The phone rang and he squeaked and released himself and answered it. "Maeve," he said breathlessly.

"Have you been running?" Maeve asked.

"No, I've…"

"What?"

"Complete honesty?"

"What?"

"Promise you won't be mad?" he asked, scrunching his face.

"Why would I be mad?" she asked, puzzled.

"I've been jerking off to those two photos of you," he said sheepishly from between clenched lips.

"You pervert," Maeve laughed.

"I'm sorry. I know. I should have asked, but—"

"Why do you think I sent them to you, muppet?" she said, fondly.

"I wasn't sure," he said, relaxing. "I think Cute Otis thrives when you aren't around."

"I wish I had a photo of you," Maeve murmured.

"Do you want me to send you one?"

"Depends."

"On what?"

"What are you wearing?" Maeve asked huskily.

Otis swallowed. She sounded so hot. "T-shirt and boxers."

"What t-shirt?"

"Voltron."

"That'll do. Is Jawbreaker getting fresh air?"

"Yes," Otis said hesitantly.

"Put him away and send me one."

"Okay," Otis said and used his free hand to push himself back inside his boxers. "I'll put you on speaker. If I screw up and lose you, I'll call back."

"Okay," said Maeve.

He fiddled with his phone and held it out, trying to get a good angle. Frustrated, he sat up.

"I'll try in the mirror. Hang on," he said as walked to the mirror and held the phone out to get as complete a shot of himself as he could without obscuring his face. "Oh," he said, frustrated.

"What?" asked Maeve.

"I'm bulging," he said, trying to adjust himself.

"I don't mind," Maeve said, giggling.

"What security do you have on your phone?"

"What's security?" Maeve asked, blandly.

"Do you have anti-virus, anti-phishing, anti-malware, a PIN on your lock screen?"

"What's a lock screen?" Maeve asked, blandly.

Otis heard himself whimper even though he knew Maeve was fucking with him.

"Look, forget it," Maeve said. "If you're worried, next time you're over, you can check if I've got the proper security set up. I'll take one then."

"I'm sorry. I just don't want you getting hacked."

"It's okay," Maeve said. "I can still remember what you look like."

Otis returned to the bed and removed her from speaker and held the phone to his ear again.

"Back on the bed," he said.

"Wish I was with you. Could help you take care of Jawbreaker."

Otis was silent, reluctant to tell her.

"Otis…?" Maeve asked. "You still there?"

"That's the fourth time today," he said sheepishly.

"What?" Maeve giggled.

"I think you've broken me."

"Seemed to be working alright this morning."

"No, I mean… I'd get them in the morning. Occasional one at night. But now… after we kissed… They just keep happening."

"I'm flattered."

"What if they happen at school?"

"Deal with them."

"Very helpful."

Maeve was silent for a moment. "Just think of Groff. Naked. At school assembly."

"Oh," Otis said, pretending surprise. "He's gone to sleep."

"Really?"

"No."

"Just make sure you've got something to cover yourself."

Otis nodded, pulling a wry face, then asked, "What did you have for dinner?"

"A burger, chips, nuggets."

"How was work?"

"Shit. Do you really think I'd be any good at tutoring?"

"I think you'd be great. You know so much. Understand so much more than I do. Maybe I'll hire you to help tutor me."

"What in?"

"English. I still only get B-plusses."

"You're smarter than that, Otis," Maeve said, surprised.

"Maybe Miss Sands has it out for me."

"I'll beat her up for you."

"You might need to work on anger management and conflict resolution before you start tutoring," Otis said, smirking.

"Fuck you," Maeve said, the smile in her voice clear.

Otis was silent for a moment. "How was the trip over with Mum?" he asked, hesitantly.

"It was good. We listened to _Jagged Little Pill_ part of the way."

"My condolences," Otis said. "Did she say anything?"

"Asked about our embarrassment. Told me a few euphemisms for sex stuff. Do you want to go to California?"

"After I've talked to someone," he said, smiling.

"Have you found anyone?" she asked, quietly.

"I've got a few names. I'll call them tomorrow."

Maeve hummed to herself then said, tentatively, "She asked me if she went too far this morning."

"What did you say?" Otis asked, quietly.

"She talked about how she's tried to be open about sexuality and shit. Tried to normalise it." She hesitated. "I said sometimes it could have the opposite effect than intended."

Otis nodded then remembered Maeve couldn't see him. "Okay."

"She wondered if maybe your dad would have been better off telling you some of the shit."

"He did," Otis muttered.

"I said I didn't know your dad."

Otis sensed an undertone in her voice but kept quiet.

"Anything else is for you to say to her," continued Maeve. "Or not. Your choice."

"After I talk to someone, I'll talk to her."

"Your choice."

There was silence between them for a moment.

"I told her you said you were really glad that she was there for you when you needed her," Maeve murmured.

"Thank you," said Otis, very quietly, very touched.

"I really like her," Maeve said, softly.

"Good," murmured Otis.

"God, you're making me soft, Milburn," she said.

"That's a bad thing, isn't it?"

"Otis…?"

"What?"

"I meant it. You're giving me just as much as you say I'm giving you. I couldn't feel like this without you."

Otis was silent for a moment, then murmured, "I love you."

"Love you," Maeve murmured.

"Frog-fucker…?" Otis asked after another moment.

"What, chinchilla sucker?" Maeve asked, the smile in her voice clear.

"What are you wearing?"

* * *

**Author's Notes: I borrowed a post-BJ beat from **_**Can I Sleep in your Brain?**_** by macsdennis. I hope they don't mind.**

**I find writing Otis pleasing Maeve scenes easier than writing Maeve pleasing Otis and sometimes wonder with both if I'm just writing porn or writing with the level of frankness seen in the show. If I've gone too far, let me know.**

**If the chapter's too long, please also let me know. I just couldn't think of another suitable place for a break.**

**As always, I hope you get entertainment from it.**


	21. Chapter 21

**Author's Notes: I had a hard time with this chapter. I knew I was going to when I couldn't even find Eric's voice. I hope you don't think some of his dialogue is going too far. Please let me know if you think it does.**

**Continuity Error Last Chapter: Otis couldn't have been conceived on the table by the river, since Jean told Jakob they moved there after he was born. Damn. Not changing it.**

**No actual sex this time. **

**P.S. During April 2020, I added a scene to the end of Chapter 16. See the notes at the end of that chapter.**

* * *

**Chapter 21**

**Day 6**

Otis matched his speed with Eric's as they rode to school along the forest-enclosed roads.

"So how was your weekend?" Otis asked.

"It was great," Eric said, enthusiastically. "Our cousins were part of a visiting group from our church in Rwanda. Pastor's son was so hot. I think he fancied me."

"Did anything happen between you?"

"It was a church thing. Nothing like that happens at a church thing," said Eric, shocked Otis would even ask.

"Are they still in the country? Maybe you could meet outside the church thing?"

"They've gone up to Scotland," Eric said, sadly. "I do have a photo of him. A group photo."

"Can I see?"

"I'll show you later."

"I thought you had lost faith in the church."

"I found it again."

"How?" Otis asked, genuinely curious.

"For the first time, I felt I belonged there," Eric said quietly.

Otis thought about asking more but realised Eric would tell him in his own time.

"That's great," he said.

"So how was my little Oatcake's weekend with Maeve?" Eric asked, slyly.

Otis smiled to himself. "She had to work. We didn't get to spend the days together."

"Work?" asked Eric, puzzled. "Where does she work?"

"Over in Southclyde. She got some last-minute shifts."

"Bummer."

"I did stay at her place on Friday night, though."

"You slept in Maeve Wiley's bed?" asked Eric, shocked and pleased.

"I slept on the lounge."

"Of course you did," Eric said, disappointed in his friend yet again.

"And I cooked her dinner at my place on Saturday night. Mum was out with Jakob."

"Awww," Eric mock-swooned. "A candle-lit romantic dinner for two. How sweet."

"There were no candles."

"What did Chef Otis Ramsey cook for his new girlfriend?"

"Lemon butter chicken breasts. And we had strawberry cheesecake, but I didn't make that."

"You can still eat strawberry cheesecake?" asked Eric, shocked. "If I ate as much as you that time I would still be throwing up."

"You still can't eat bananas?"

"What's that? There's no such thing. Bananas do not exist in my universe."

"What about banana-flavoured things? Are you able to eat those?"

"Nothing that is related to the long thin yellow thing is ever coming near this mouth ever again."

"You should join a support group with Ruby and Olivia."

"And you never thanked me for that imagery."

"I've never been interested in Ruby or Olivia."

"I bet if I had convinced Maeve—"

"Don't, Eric," Otis gently warned him.

"So what did you two get up to afterward?" Eric asked, believing he knew the answer and sighing internally. "More dancing?"

"No, we didn't actually dance on Saturday night."

"So what did you do? Watch a movie?"

"We made out."

"Did you grab her boob again?"

"Yes."

"Dirty boy," Eric smirked.

Otis smirked to himself and said, nonchalantly, "And I fingered her."

Eric struggled to retain control of his bike. "What?"

Otis' smile widened. "And she gave me a handjob."

Eric almost lost control of his bike. "What?"

"And we engaged in oral gratification."

Eric recovered control of his bike and stopped in the middle of the road, watching Otis recede into the distance. "What?"

When he regained his composure, Eric grinned and lifted his arms to the sky. "Hallelujah, Lord," he cried, jubilantly.

* * *

Otis parked and secured his bike and heard Eric's voice calling him. He took off his helmet and watched as Eric dismounted from his bike and steadied it within the bike rack.

"Finally, Oatcake. Finally." Eric squealed with delight.

"Settle down, Eric. You'll burst something," Otis said, smiling at his friend's enthusiasm.

"Why are you just standing there? Why aren't you shouting it from the rooftops? You have had your fingers in Maeve Wiley's vagina and your penis in her mouth? You have hit your personal jackpot."

"Eric…" Otis said, smiling a little less at his friend's enthusiasm.

"Well, not the full jackpot," Eric continued. "That'll only happen when your penis is inside Maeve Wiley's vagina."

"Eric…" said Otis, mostly still loving his enthusiasm but wishing he would settle down.

Eric leaned forward eagerly. "Was she any good? Did she deep throat you? Does she have good tongue action? Does she use her teeth? Omigod, Maeve Wiley uses her teeth."

"Eric…" said Otis, now feeling his friend was pushing too far.

"Did you come in her mouth? Did she swallow? Omigod, she swallowed. Maeve Wiley swallowed my little Oatcake's man-juice."

"I never said—" Otis was now definitely certain Eric had pushed too far.

"Your face is telling me everything. Maeve Wiley swallowed your cum."

"Eric, would you settle down, please?" There was enough genuine annoyance in Otis' voice to calm Eric for the moment.

"She did swallow," he muttered defiantly.

Otis took a deep breath and calmed himself. "Maeve has told me I can tell you what we got up to because she's going to be talking with Aimee, but I'm not going to give you any details."

Eric stared at him, lips pressed together to prevent himself speaking.

"Alright," Otis said, giving in. "She did swallow but that's all I'm going to say about that."

"You need to eat more pineapple."

Otis hesitated then smiled to himself. "That's what Maeve said."

"She really loves you," Eric said.

"I really love her," said Otis quietly.

"So did you give her a little tongue action?" Eric asked, slyly.

"I started to," Otis said sheepishly. "Mum caught us."

"Ohmigod."

"That was so embarrassing."

"And I didn't get the call to help carry your pine box? You have so changed since I last saw you."

"Maeve just… she makes me feel so normal about it."

"It _is_ normal, Oatcake."

"I know."

"I still can't believe you did all that in three days. I told you she had magic powers."

Otis smiled sheepishly. "I was just…"

"So horny you couldn't help yourself?"

"Wanting to be intimate with her," Otis said with an attempt at dignity.

"You are so in lo-o-ove."

"Yeah," Otis murmured, smiling shyly. "You were right, Eric."

"Of course I was," Eric said, then frowned. "About what?"

"About being in love with Maeve back then. If I could have admitted it to myself, maybe I wouldn't have hurt her. Maybe I could have told Jackson to…"

"Fuck off?"

"Yeah."

Eric studied Otis. "She's forgiven you. Put it behind you."

"Yeah."

"Oatcake, you have been given your dreams on a platter. Do not fuck this up by overthinking things. She's in love with you. Now, go and start shagging and make little Oatcake babies so I can be their uncle."

"Give us a break, Eric," Otis said, laughing. "We're sixteen."

"I thought Maeve was seventeen." Eric gasped in realisation. "She's seventeen. Ohmigod, you are dating an older woman. You are a toy-boy."

* * *

Aimee stood by her locker and handed an orange hat to Otis who took it gratefully.

"Thank you," he said, relieved.

"Maeve said you wanted it. Didn't know whose it was. Almost threw it out."

"I'm so glad you didn't. It's Eric's."

"So did you have a good weekend with Maeve?" Aimee asked, smirking slightly.

Otis smiled. "We had a good time. Well, I did. Maeve can tell you her side."

"If she didn't have a good time, you'd know."

"Yeah."

"Can I ask you a question?"

"You just did, so I think the answer is probably yes."

"Smartarse," Aimee smirked.

"What do you want to know?"

"If someone tells you something, like, maybe they don't like birthdays, is it right to want to throw a little birthday party for them?"

"It's alright to _want_ to do that," Otis hedged.

"Yeah, but is it okay to actually do it?"

"I hate ethical dilemmas," Otis sighed.

"But you're so smart."

"Why don't they like birthdays?"

"Something about celebrating squeezing random vaginas."

Otis frowned and thought for a moment then a smile broke across his face. "Celebrating being squeezed out of a random vagina?"

"Yeah, that's it. How did you know?"

"Do I know this person with such a cynical view of her birth?"

"Maybe," Aimee smirked.

"Are you planning a big party?"

"No, she doesn't like big parties so I just thought I'd invite a few people. Dinner. Munchies. Booze. A cake. Maybe a sign."

"That sounds nice. I can't see how she can have any objection to that. But maybe the sign is a bit much."

"It wasn't going to say 'Happy Birthday'."

"What was it going to say?"

"'We Love You.' It's the same sentiment, isn't it?"

Otis pressed his lips together and nodded. "Is it supposed to be a secret?"

Aimee shook her head. "No, you can tell her. Find out if she's okay with it."

"That way if she doesn't like it, she can be angry with me?" Otis asked, wryly.

Aimee smiled. "Better to be angry with your boyfriend than your best friend."

Otis shook his head. "Okay, I'll talk to her."

"So you and Eric'll come?"

"I'll ask him. I think he'll be there."

"Great," Aimee said, then glanced down and lost her smile. "Is that for me?"

"What?"

"I was joking when I said I wanted to test you out."

Otis noticed the direction of Aimee's gaze and glanced down and leapt back, horrified, using the orange cap to cover himself as best he could.

"I'm sorry. No… it's… Maeve… Excuse me…"

Otis hurried away. Aimee smirked as she watched him go.

* * *

Otis and Eric sat on the bench overlooking the wall where Maeve changed his life forever, slowly eating their lunches.

"You really do seem different, Otis," Eric said.

"More confident?" Otis asked.

Eric nodded. "Yeah. It's really weird."

Otis smiled to himself. "That's Maeve. That's thanks to Maeve. When she kissed me, it's like she unlocked something within me."

"Yeah, your boner."

"More than that. She allowed me to accept that finding her attractive… wanting her that way… was okay."

"I kept telling you that."

"She also told me she'd been m… w… flicking her bean about me. For a while now. That made me feel really good."

"I kept telling you _that_."

"And when she let me touch her… down there… it felt so good. The feel of her. Seeing that I was, y'know, pleasing her. I just kept wanting to do more. While I was feeling that I could handle it. I wanted to get to the next checkpoint. And the next one."

"Checkpoints are where you start from next time."

"Well, I wanted to complete as many levels as I could."

"Just say you wanted to get to third base," Eric sighed.

"We're not using the baseball metaphor."

"So why didn't you go all the way?"

"I still don't think I'm ready for that."

"Does Maeve want to?"

"Yes. She's told me. But she's willing to wait."

Eric noticed a shift in Otis' mood.

"Why has a little raincloud come over you?" he asked.

Otis was silent for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "There's something I need to tell you. I told Maeve and I think you should know."

"Told Maeve what?"

Otis took in a deep breath and released it. "The reason I've… had issues when it comes to my own sexual desires."

Eric held his breath, dreading the next words.

"When I was four I caught my dad having sex with one of his patients. I told mum and that's when they started arguing. Ever since then, once I began experiencing all those things, you know… a boy my age is supposed to be experiencing… all I could think of was that. Dad fucking. Mum yelling. Me causing the divorce."

Eric was silent for a long moment, looking gently at his friend. "Shit, man."

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner."

"No, I get it, Otis. It's okay."

"It caused a lot of shit to happen."

"Thank goodness Maeve's helped you stopped carrying that shit, eh," Eric said, nudging his friend uncertainly.

"I'm still carrying a lot of that shit. That's why I don't think I'm ready for actual sex yet."

"You never know. You could just shove it in and see what happens."

"I think Maeve might have something to say about that."

"Her consent was implied. You think she would say no?"

"She knows what could possibly happen."

"Fuck, man. What could happen?" Eric asked, frowning.

"The same thing that happened with Lily happened with Maeve."

"What happened with Lily?"

"She touched my cock and I freaked out."

"Lily touched your cock?" Eric asked, shocked.

"While we weren't talking. I tried to lose my virginity with her. Did not work out. Full-blown panic attack. Fainted. And when I was fingering Maeve the first time, she touched me and the same thing happened."

"Worse than your normal?"

"Much worse. So much worse. I am so lucky. Maeve listened to me. That helped me. She's the first person I ever told. You're the second."

"Shit, man," Eric said again, stunned.

"I'm going to go talk to someone about it."

"Good," Eric said.

The bell signalling the end of lunchtime rang.

"I'll tell you more some other time, if you want," Otis said as he stood up.

Eric nodded as he stood.

"So you actually tried it on with Lily?" he said, trying to lighten the mood. "I'm proud of you, man. I said you'd like her."

* * *

Jackson entered the study room and stopped as he saw Otis sitting on the far side of the room, facing away, head down studying a book. Jackson almost turned and walked out again then stopped himself.

Taking a deep breath, he walked over to sit down opposite Otis who looked up. Jackson watched the open look on the other boy's face harden.

"I'm sorry, man," Jackson murmured.

Otis said nothing but his anger was clear.

"I shouldn't have said that," Jackson continued.

Otis remained silent but his glare held onto Jackson.

"Yeah," murmured Jackson and stood, walking away.

"I'm glad you told her," Otis said.

Jackson stopped and turned around, saw Otis had turned to look at him.

"I think she was going to tell me she liked me before you spoke up," Otis continued. "She deserved to know what I'd done before she did that."

"It was still a shitty thing, man."

Otis took a breath and swallowed. "Maeve told me she doesn't like big romantic gestures. That's why I told you to always go bigger."

Jackson frowned.

"I was hoping she'd tell you to fuck off. Among other things. I just didn't think about the pressure it would have put on her to say 'yes'. I deserved to have that happen."

Jackson stared at him, still frowning.

"What I didn't deserve," Otis continued, "was to have you put me in that position in the first place."

Jackson returned to sit opposite Otis.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"You never asked me if I agreed to help. You just shoved the money in my hand and assumed I would. You never listened to me when I tried to give the money back. And when I told you about all those things she liked, I was trying to get you to understand that you needed to listen to her. See her. Find out from her what she liked. Who she was."

"I was trying to but she was just shutting me out," Jackson almost whined.

"Then maybe you should have taken the hint."

"Then I'd never have been with her."

"We're not entitled to a relationship with a particular person, Jackson."

"Yeah," Jackson muttered. "It's just dumb luck, innit?"

"You were listening?"

"She was listening."

Otis stared at Jackson silently for a moment then came to a decision. "Maeve did like you. Said she was happy enough being with you and she doesn't regret it. Mostly," he said quietly. "But she wasn't getting the real you, was she?"

"I like some of that stuff she's into."

Otis sighed and started packing his belongings into his bag. "You should try to listen to people, Jackson. Don't always be so full on. And don't just assume because you want someone, they're going to want you back."

"You're actually with her?" Jackson asked, hesitantly.

Otis nodded.

"I can't wish you well, man," Jackson murmured.

Otis nodded. "If it makes you feel better," he said as he stood up, "it really hurt seeing the two of you together."

Jackson recoiled in sudden disgust.

"What the fuck, man?" he said.

Otis looked at Jackson, noticed where his disgusted gaze was pointed and glanced down.

"Oh… no… fuck… no… go away…" Otis said as he hurried from the room, his bag held before himself.

* * *

Otis was at his locker as Eric arrived.

"Ready to get smashed?" Otis asked.

"Oh, I can't," Eric said, dismayed. "Didn't I tell you? I have detention."

"Why?"

"I punched Anwar and called Mr Hendrix a drunk."

"I'd heard you punched Anwar but… Mr Hendrix _is_ a drunk."

"I don't think he likes being reminded."

"I'm sorry, Eric," Otis said, quietly. "I know that only happened—"

"I should have found a better way to deal with my anger," Eric said.

"I wish we weren't... I wish I hadn't left you. I wish I'd told you to wait for me. I wish I hadn't hurt you. I wish I could have talked to you. I wish you'd punched me instead."

"I shouldn't have put my things down," Eric said quietly.

"No, Eric. It was your birthday. I should have been there for you."

Eric gave Otis a wistful smile and shook his head. "I didn't understand at the time, but when it comes to Maeve, I'm going to be second. Doesn't matter how long I've known you. I get that now."

"You're always first," Otis said, punching Eric gently on the arm.

Eric looked at his friend fondly. "That's so sweetly stupid, Otis."

"Equal first?" Otis asked, scrunching his face.

Eric shut his locker.

"At least you can go see Maeve now," he said. "Get a little more oral action in."

"Oh, she's spending time with Aimee. Which reminds me."

Otis reached into his bag and handed Eric the orange hat.

"My hat," Eric exclaimed, excited.

"Maeve asked Aimee if she could look for it."

"So what are you going to do if you can't see Maeve?"

"I've got to make an appointment with someone I can talk to. I can start making calls."

"Have you thought of talking to Jean?"

"Not yet. I need to talk to someone who doesn't have their own barrow to push. Someone who's focus is solely on helping me heal and not… anything else."

"You should talk to her," Eric said quietly.

"I will."

"Because I don't think you caused the divorce."

"What do you mean?"

"Do you really think that's the first time Remi cheated?"

* * *

Aimee and Maeve sat on folding chairs in front of the caravan, smoking.

"He turned so red," Aimee said, laughing.

"He blames me for them," Maeve said, grinning. "Says I broke him and he can't control them."

"Tell him Steve's going to beat him up."

Maeve smiled and took out her phone and started typing.

**Aimee says Steve's going to beat you up**

"He really did seem… you know…" Aimee said.

"He is," Maeve smiled to herself. "I call him Jawbreaker."

"Did you…?"

"Uh-huh."

"And did he…?"

"He started. His mum interrupted us."

"Oh, that is so embarrassing. Was she mad?"

"She was cool. Just wanted to make sure we were using condoms."

"And did you…?"

"Not yet, but she doesn't need to know that."

Maeve's phone beeped and she checked the message.

**Tell her I'm sorry. Tell her it wasn't about her**

**You want me to tell Aimee you think she isn't attractive**

**That's not what I mean**

**Was nice knowing you, Milburn**

Maeve rested her phone in her lap and smiled.

"He cooked me dinner on Saturday night," she said. "It was really nice. Then we started making out and spent the rest of the night naked. I've never done that. Not even with Jackson."

Aimee shook her head, fondly. "Never seen you like this, Maeve."

Maeve was silent for a moment. "I can't believe it's only been six days," she murmured.

"But you've liked him for a while. At least since the night you turned up at my place with him."

"Longer even than that. Before Jackson's big song."

"So why did you go with Jackson?"

"Because you were telling me to. Because I thought muppet was telling me to. Because Jackson did like me. Because I thought maybe I could really like him."

"I was only telling you to go with Jackson because I didn't realise you liked Otis then. If I'd known I would have done a mind map with him in it so you could choose."

"I didn't realise I liked him like that. At the time. I know now I was falling for him after—" She hesitated, changed her tone. "We were texting. Sending dirty drawings we found around the school. I think that's when I fell in love with him. I know I was smiling every time his name came up on my phone. I just didn't realise. I should have."

Maeve's phone beeped.

**Is she really mad**

**Would I lie about something like that**

**Tell her I had one with Jackson as well**

**You want to sleep with my ex-boyfriend as well as my best friend**

**You're fucking with me, aren't you**

**I hope we will be**

**Death of me, Wiley**

**If you get one when you see Ola I will be**

**She's not coming here till next term**

**She still works at the shop, doesn't she**

**Don't jinx me**

**Talk later**

**I'll call around eight**

**Love you muppet**

**Love you frog-fucker**

"What'd he say?" asked Aimee.

"Nothing."

"People don't smile about nothing."

"Just… pet name."

"What does he call you?"

Maeve hesitated a moment. "Bananacake. Because of the Speedy Grill shirt."

"Steve calls me 'Princess'. Only person I've ever liked calling me 'Princess'."

"If muppet calls me that, I'll deck him."

"You and your feminine principles," Aimee said, shaking her head, then corrected herself. "_Feminist._ See, I'm learning," she said, proudly.

Maeve grimaced ruefully. "I'm sorry."

Aimee shook her head. "Steve did it as well. I know you didn't do it to make me feel stupid, it just felt that way sometimes."

"You're not stupid, Aimee. You just see the world in a different way. You focus on the things that are important to you. It's good."

"So why didn't you go all the way?" Aimee asked.

"We… we've decided to wait a bit for that. Right now, anything up to third base is good enough. Going down," she clarified.

"Was he any good? I bet he was really good."

Maeve sighed in wonderment. "Magic fingers. He was incredible. Went straight for my girl button and sent me into the stratosphere. And one time, he just kept going and going. God, I have never felt anything like it. It was like I just kept topping myself. It was too much in the end."

Aimee nodded in equal amazement. "Steve does that. He's the only guy who's ever done that to me. I couldn't believe it the first time."

"Otis isn't as good with his tongue but he promises to practice. A lot," Maeve said, smirking.

"Steve's really good. The way he runs his tongue along my petals and flicks my bud. Best since Bruce Holman. Better."

"It still felt good. He may have got better if his mum hadn't interrupted."

"You never said what she was like. Was she as cool as she seemed?"

"Yeah," Maeve said, smiling softly. "I mean, Otis has issues with her but that's what you do, isn't it? Have issues with your mum?"

"Don't get me started."

"But she's like him. Mostly helps me relax. Otis talks about having four walls of trust. A place to feel safe to talk about things. They both make me feel like they're my four walls of trust. Like I've known them forever. Just hope I don't fuck it up."

"Don't do that, babe," Aimee said, a gently pleading tone in her voice.

"I always do, don't I?"

"Stop that," Aimee gently commanded.

"I just want this to be different."

"It will be. You've finally met a really nice guy."

"Jackson was a nice guy."

Aimee was silent for a moment, then said, hesitantly, "I never saw you smile with Jackson."

Maeve looked at her, pondering. "I did," she said eventually. "We had some fun times. I've got proof. Photos. Oh, no, Jackson has proof," she corrected herself. "Photobooth."

"Did you ever tell Jackson you loved him?"

"He said it to me. After the dance."

"You said Otis told you he loved you. Have you said it to him?"

"We've been saying it all the time," Maeve said, marvelling at herself. "Hadn't said that since Mark Johnson."

"Fuck Mark Johnson," Aimee spat out.

"Never again," Maeve said, wryly. "Have you said it to Steve?"

"Once."

"Has he said it?"

"Once. Not at the same time. Said he didn't want to make it an automatic response."

"That's a good idea," Maeve murmured.

"So we say other things."

"What other things?" Maeve asked, genuinely curious.

"Just little things. Nice things."

There was silence between them for a while then Aimee asked, "Did you tell him about your mum?"

"Yeah, a while back. And I told his mum at dinner. And about Sean."

"Did you tell him about Elsie?"

Maeve took a puff from her cigarette and said nothing.

Aimee sighed. "She's your sister, Maeve."

"Half-sister."

"Still your sister."

Maeve was silent for a moment. "Haven't told him."

"I'd love to have a sister," Aimee said.

"You've got me," Aimee smirked.

"We don't argue. I'd love to have a really good argument with my sister."

"Why?"

"Just would."

"Elsie's three. I think I'd win."

Aimee's phone beeped and she looked at the message.

**Hey, Princess. Finished for the day. Where are you**

**Still with Maeve. Do you want me to come over**

**Yes but stay with Maeve till you're ready**

**Won't be long**

**I don't want you dumping your friend just for me. Have some girl time together**

**I really like you**

**I think you're wonderful**

Aimee put her phone down and noticed Maeve smiling gently at her.

"You're smitten, too, Aimes," Maeve said fondly.

"Why did it take us so long to find the really nice guys?" Aimee asked, wistfully.

"Have to fuck a lot of frogs until you find your prince."

"I thought it was kiss. Why would you fuck a frog?"

"Why would you kiss a frog?"

* * *

Maeve lay on her bed, phone pressed against her ear and lips pressed together to stop herself laughing.

"I was talking to Miss Sands after class," Otis was saying, "trying to get the stuff for the Aptitude Scheme and she turned away to get the papers and when she turned back, she squeaked and wouldn't look at me. I didn't even realise until she put the papers on the desk and said she had to take a leak and hurried out. And then I noticed."

"You want to fuck the teacher, too?" Maeve tried for mock-outrage. "That's such a cliché."

"I can't help them."

"How come you don't notice them? Are you numb down there?"

"I don't know. I just… maybe I've spent so many years trying to ignore them that they just blend into the background."

"Your boners definitely do not blend into the background."

"Just my luck, when we finally try to… y'know… the damn thing will go on strike."

"So did you alphabetise your music collection?"

There was a brief silence then Otis said, "Yes."

Maeve frowned. "You're right. That doesn't work as a euphemism. Did you really alphabet—"

"I flogged the bishop. In the book closet."

"Jeezus," Maeve laughed.

"I panicked. I wasn't going to run down the corridor. You know how far that loo is. Everybody was around."

Maeve shrugged. "Girls' one is ten feet away."

"Like I'm going to run into the girls' toilet to wank off."

"Next week I'll sneak you in."

"I don't want them to be happening next week. Not at random."

"Just… try to put it so it won't show so much if you get one."

"I miss just having the one in the morning."

"Maybe you've got a backlog and when you catch up, they'll stop."

"You're really enjoying this, aren't you?"

"Just wish I could enjoy it in person."

"So what did _you_ get up to today?"

"Reading, mostly. Finishing the homework from last week."

"I did miss seeing you."

"I know," Maeve smirked. "You were saying."

"Not because of that. Just because… well, when I'd suddenly see you in the corridor between classes. I miss that."

"Me, too," Maeve murmured.

"I talked to Eric. Told him about dad."

"What did he say?"

There was silence on the other end of the call.

"Otis…?" Maeve asked, concerned.

"He doesn't think that was the first time dad cheated."

"What do you think?" Maeve asked cautiously.

"I don't know. Do you think he would have cheated before?"

"I don't know your dad," Maeve said, as neutrally as she could.

"You really don't think I caused the divorce?"

"No," said Maeve, firmly.

Otis was silent for a moment. "I made my first appointment."

"That's brilliant. When?"

"I got lucky. Thursday. Late."

"Where?"

"Over at Southclyde. I'll have to think of something to tell mum why I'll be late home."

"Just tell her you're with your girlfriend."

"Yeah, I can do that now, can't I?"

"Yeah."

There was another silence before Otis spoke again. "Jackson apologised."

"How did that go?" Maeve asked, quietly.

"I told him I was glad he told you and I deserved to have it happen."

"Oh, Otis," Maeve groaned softly.

"You deserved to know the truth, Maeve, if we're going to be together. Imagine if we were together now and you didn't know."

Maeve was silent for a moment then asked quietly, "Does he know we're together?"

"Yeah. Says he can't wish me luck."

"Understandable," Maeve murmured.

"I know," Otis said.

"I wish I'd dealt with that better. I wish I'd dumped him right after I sniffed your jumper."

"You did what?"

Maeve blushed.

"Maeve…?"

"I sniffed your jumper, alright," she snapped, embarrassed.

"When?"

"Just… Jackson was skipping training and hanging out with Sean and… I saw your jumper where I dumped it and… I sniffed it."

"Because you like Nutella?"

"Because I liked you, dickhead," Maeve said, smiling to herself.

"So when was that?"

"After I decided to go for the Aptitude Scheme."

"When was that?"

"After you told me you liked my essay."

There was silence from the other end until Otis said, "You asked me how I was."

"What?"

"The day after we talked about your essay, you asked me how I was."

"And you freaked out."

"Oh, Maeve…"

"Was I really that bad?"

"Maeve…"

"Honesty, Otis."

"Let's not talk about this over the phone. Did Aimee give you all the stuff I gave her?"

Maeve was silent for a moment, then said, "Yeah. I'll read about the Aptitude Scheme later."

"So what is that about? I only know it's for the really smart kids."

"Sean says it's a bunch of geeks sitting around talking astrophysics and shit."

"And what do you say?" Otis asked, cautiously.

Maeve took a few breaths before answering. "It's a bunch of kids doing everything they can to get out of this shithole town."

"Really smart kids. And one of those really smart kids is definitely going to make it."

"We hope."

"Don't do that, Maeve," Otis said gently.

"You're the reason I went for it," she said quietly.

"I thought Miss Sands was pushing you to."

"But you're the one who made me agree."

"I didn't do anything, Maeve."

"You believed in me." Her voice was so soft she wasn't sure if he could hear.

After a moment, Otis said quietly, "What's not to believe in?"

After a moment, Maeve said quietly, "I really did miss you today."

"We'll see each other tomorrow."

"Where are we going to meet? At the clinic?"

"Meet me outside school. I'll give you a lift on my bike."

"I think I'll fall off the handlebars."

"You'll be sitting behind me."

"Sounds cozy," she murmured.

"I'll bring a spare helmet."

"Thanks for coming with me."

"How long before we get the results?"

"Depends on the tests. Could be a couple of weeks."

"How do they take samples? Do they stick anything in your nose?"

"No," said Maeve, laughing.

"That's the one I'm really squeamish about. Sticking things in my nose."

"They've never stuck anything in my nose."

"I had a dream about that last night. That they stuck a cotton bud in my nose."

"You don't have to worry about that."

"I think someone would need to hold me down if they did that."

"I think I'd need that, too."

A comfortable silence settled between them.

"Was Aimee really offended?" Otis eventually asked.

"Nah, she found it funny."

"I'll never be able to talk to her again."

"She was also impressed."

"Maeve…" Otis whined.

"Suck it up, muppet."

"Isn't that your role?" Otis said, hesitantly.

"Pervert," Maeve said, smiling.

"Mine is more of a licking thing, isn't it?"

Maeve rolled onto her back, smile increasing. "Who knew Otis Milburn could be such a pervert?"

"Getting my tongue down there and flicking your bean?"

"I am telling everybody that you're such a pervert."

"I really liked last night," Otis murmured.

"Yeah, me too," Maeve sighed.

"Was I any good at it?"

"You really don't know?"

"Well, it was my first time at phone sex."

"You got me off."

"Do you want to do it again?"

"I thought that's why you were being a pervert."

"Do you want to take the lead tonight?"

"You can, again. But something different."

"How different?"

"That's up to you."

Otis was silent for a moment, then said, "I've thought of something but I'll need to find out something first."

"Find out what?"

"Which one's Eustace and which one's Bettina?"

* * *

**Author's Notes: Not pleased with this one – I wanted it to have a light touch as it flittered across moments from their day even while dealing with a couple of 'heavy' plot beats – but it's the best I can do when a severe case of writer's block is overwhelming me.**

**I hope it's not too disappointing considering the long wait.**

**I promise I will write a full phone sex scene at the appropriate moment.**


	22. Chapter 22

**Author's Notes: I am sorry for the very long delay. I was originally wanting this chapter to encompass a moment for each of three days but I could never find the way to accomplish that.**

**When I finally decided to just focus on this one afternoon, the chapter came relatively easy. I hope it's enjoyable enough to compensate a little for the wait and I hope my dealing with one topic feels as if it comes from a respectful place.**

* * *

**Chapter 22**

**Day 7**

Maeve waited impatiently near the entrance to the school grounds, cigarette in hand, glaring as the car carrying the remaining Untouchables approached. Anwar was driving, Olivia was on her phone and Ruby was studying Maeve with a haughty sneer on her face.

"Hoping to pick up some passing trade, Wiley?" Ruby called and smirked as Maeve gave her the finger, moving her arm to follow the car as it passed her and travelled along the road.

When Maeve turned back toward the school, her heart lifted at the sight of Otis wheeling his bike out the entrance toward her. She noticed his gaze flickering between her face and the retreating car.

"Hey," she said as he reached her.

"Hey," he said in response then glanced again at the car before looking back at Maeve. "I couldn't quite hear. What did she say?"

"Doesn't matter," Maeve said and rose to kiss him. "Missed you."

"Missed you, too," Otis said as he put his free arm around her. She pressed against him.

"I can tell," she smirked as their first kiss of the day finished.

Otis coughed, embarrassed.

"How many today?" Maeve asked, smirking.

"Other than now and this morning, just one."

"That's not too bad."

"At assembly."

Maeve bit her lip to stop herself laughing.

"It's not funny, Maeve."

"It is."

"And I faced the wrong way when I was hurrying to get out."

"Who copped an eyeful?"

"Doesn't matter."

"Come on. Who was it?"

Otis sighed. "Ruby and Olivia and Anwar."

Maeve's face fell.

"I was wondering if she said something about that."

"No," Maeve said, subdued.

"So what did she say?"

"Doesn't matter."

Otis' face fell in understanding and he said, flatly, "Something shitty."

"Fuck her," Maeve muttered.

"Wouldn't go near her with a barge pole," Otis muttered darkly.

Maeve looked up at him and smiled.

"What?" Otis asked, puzzled.

"A week ago you wouldn't have said anything even close to that."

"You deserve better. Especially from her."

"Just forget her. We gotta get moving. Appointment's at four."

* * *

Maeve sat on the back of Otis' bike, her arms wrapped around his waist and his spare helmet covering her head as she leant it against his back, eyes closed, savouring the moment as he pedalled them along the forest lane.

"Did you ever go riding?" Otis asked.

"Can't ride. Couldn't afford a bike."

"Do you want to?"

"We're doing it now."

"I mean, separate bikes."

"I told you, I can't ride."

"You'll pick it up."

"Where will we get another bike? I can't afford to even rent one."

"I have an old one in the shed. Can fix it up. You can use that."

"Where would we go?"

"Lots of bike trails around here. Eric and I used to go all the time. Haven't done it much lately."

"Okay," Maeve murmured after a moment. "But if I break my neck, I'll come back and haunt you."

"You won't break your neck. You can practice on our way back if you like."

"Okay."

"Great" Otis said, pleased.

"So what other boyfriend/girlfriend stuff have you got in mind for us?" Maeve asked, smiling gently to herself as she anticipated his answer.

"What do you want to do?" Otis asked.

Maeve thought for a moment, scrunching her face. "Dunno."

"Come on," urged Otis. "There must be something you want to do."

Maeve thought for a moment then smirked gently to herself. "Swim naked under the stars in Llyn y Fan Fach."

"Where's that?"

"Twynllanan."

"Where's that?"

"Somewhere in Wales. Not sure exactly where. That way, I think," she said, nodding in a particular direction and forgetting he couldn't see her at this moment.

"How do you know about it?"

"Saw it on a doco about the best places to swim naked in Wales. It looks beautiful."

Otis shook his head, smiling to himself. "I can't believe my first girlfriend is an exhibitionist."

"What do you mean 'first girlfriend'?" Maeve said, surprised by the pang that suddenly cut through her heart.

"What?" asked Otis, puzzled.

"You said 'first girlfriend'."

"You _are_ my first girlfriend," Otis said, not understanding.

"That means you think there's going to be a second?"

"What?" said Otis, startled.

"Have you given me an expiry date already or is it just a vague whenever you're sick of me feeling?"

"No," said Otis, forcefully.

"Have you got the next model lined up waiting?" Maeve muttered and Otis felt the undertone of bitterness in her voice slice through him.

Bitterness and something else he couldn't quite recognise.

He released a few guttural sounds then said, "I'm stopping the bike. Put your feet down."

"No, just… just keep going. It doesn't matter," Maeve said.

Otis stopped the bike, letting his feet steady it and turned his head, grimacing as he realised he couldn't see Maeve's face.

"Hold the bike steady," he said as he glanced down to see she had planted her feet firmly on the ground and then he awkwardly dismounted the bike, doing his best not to kick her in the head.

"Otis, look it's…"

He stepped towards her, holding the crossbar to assist in keeping the bike steady and not have it rise up with all the weight now solely at the back. "Are you… are you being serious…"

Maeve looked at him, shrugged and said, "I'm just fucking with you, muppet," before glancing away.

"I never meant… I just meant…"

"We should keep going. We'll be late."

Otis gently reached out to touch her hand. "Maeve…?"

Maeve pressed her lips together and glanced sideways at Otis. She blinked a few times, took a breath and looked directly at him. "I'm sorry. I just… I over-reacted. I'm sorry."

Otis ran his eyes across her face, struggling to understand.

She leaned forward and whispered, "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry, Maeve. I never meant—"

"I know," she murmured.

"I don't want to ever have any other girlfriend. I only want you."

Maeve pressed her lips together and held back a sniffle.

"If you want to talk…" Otis murmured quietly.

"We should get going."

"We've got some time. We're nearly there."

Maeve glanced down. "It hasn't gone away yet," she said.

Otis glanced down and sighed. "No."

"Do you want me to help you get rid of it?"

"You don't have to."

"I want to. We can go over there," she said, using her head to indicate a cluster of bushes nearby.

Otis studied her and realised she was putting on this mood as an attempt to put the last few minutes behind herself.

"Okay," he murmured, forcing a small smile to rise upon his lips.

* * *

Maeve put her pen down and turned to Otis sitting in the chair beside her, shaking her head and smiling as she studied the intense concentration on his face while he stared at the page before him.

She leaned over and whispered, "It's not a physics quiz, muppet."

"I don't know how to answer this question," he said, frustrated.

"Which question?" Maeve asked, trying to look at his place on the page.

"'When was the last time you had sex?'" he whispered.

"You said you never had sex," Maeve said, cautiously.

"Well, technically, what… earlier… that was sex," Otis said, glancing around the clinic waiting area, hoping no-one could hear him.

Maeve sighed. "They mean sex that involves the exchange of bodily fluids."

"Are you sure?"

"That's how I've always answered it."

"So that would be Sunday morning?"

"Yes."

"Or would that be Saturday night for me when I…?"

"Oh, just put down fifteen minutes ago," Maeve snapped in a too-loud voice then closed her eyes, berating herself as the instant replay of Otis jumping in his chair and bending over to quickly write on the page crossed her inner vision.

She opened her eyes and leant over, kissing his shoulder gently and murmuring, "I'm sorry for snapping."

Otis glanced at her and gave her his best quick, reassuring smile then turned back to the page.

Maeve glanced around the foyer and noticed people quickly turning their gaze away from her then she sensed Otis sitting back and turned to face him.

He was staring at her like a kicked puppy hoping for a 'good boy'.

She cursed herself then, reaching over for the clipboard in his hands, murmured, "I'll take these over."

He let her take the clipboard and she sensed him watching her as she stood and walked to the counter.

As she handed both her own and Otis' clipboards to the woman with the carefully-neutral face sitting behind the counter, Maeve sensed a presence beside herself and a familiar too-loud voice state, "Oh, aye, you kept him 'round, then?"

Maeve looked up and recognised Sarah's face from her previous visit to the clinic.

As Maeve struggled to find something to say, Sarah turned and called across to Otis, "She's not as hard as she sounds, this one. She's a real softy."

Maeve heard him say, "I know," as Sarah turned back to face her.

"Thought you said he wasn't your type?" Sarah asked with a knowing smirk.

"I don't have a type," Maeve said.

"I said you should keep the sweet ones around."

"You were right," Maeve conceded with a soft smile.

"Mum," said a voice from near the door and Maeve glanced over to see a girl about her own age staring at them.

"Coming, Your Highness," Sarah sighed then looked at Maeve. "Checkup for her, this time. Hoping she doesn't make the same mistakes I do."

"Mum, I've got to get back."

Sarah rolled her eyes and winked at Maeve then turned to look at Otis and called, "You look after this one. Treat her like a princess."

Maeve pressed her lips together and watched Sarah walk over to her daughter who opened the door.

"No more strays, mum," she heard the daughter hiss as they stepped through it.

"Oh, Princess Einstein doesn't need a mother," she heard Sarah reply before the door closed behind them.

Maeve smiled gently as she walked over to the clearly befuddled Otis and sat beside him again. She leaned closer to him and muttered, only half-teasingly, "Call me princess and I will bite your scrote, okay?"

Otis stared into Maeve's eyes for a moment, a smirk rising on his lips, then said, "Xena was a princess."

Maeve bit her lip then gently put her hand on his arm and rested her head against his shoulder and murmured, "I don't deserve you."

"'Deserve's got nothin' to do with it'," she heard him growl softly.

"Who the hell was that?" Maeve asked, face scrunching.

"Clint Eastwood. _Unforgiven_."

"I don't like Westerns. Or Eastwood."

"Oh? That's one of my favourites."

"I didn't say _you_ couldn't like them."

"'It's a hell of a thing killin' a man. You take away all he's got and all he's ever gonna have,'" he said in that soft growl which she tried to convince herself wasn't causing a reaction down there.

"Don't go fucking quoting movies," she muttered.

"'We all got it coming, kid.'"

"'Say that again. Say that again. I dare you. I double dare you, motherfucker. Say that one more goddamn time.'"

Otis was silent for a moment then said, apologetically, "Actually, it's 'say 'what' again.'"

"Whatever."

* * *

Maeve and Otis emerged from the clinic, the door closing behind them as they walked to the lift. She glanced wistfully at the closed doors of the sushi restaurant then pressed the button to the lift and turned to her boyfriend.

"Did they stick anything up your nose?" she asked.

"No. You?"

"Not up my nose."

Otis winced. "Does it hurt?"

"It's uncomfortable."

The door to the lift opened and they stepped inside. Otis pressed the button for the ground floor.

"Does that mean I can't return the favour tonight?" he asked.

"They're not favours," Maeve sighed.

"Sorry."

"Why did they fucking come up with terms like that?" Maeve muttered, annoyed.

"Give you a gift?" Otis asked, plaintively.

"'Get me off' is good enough."

"So…?" Otis asked, tentatively.

The doors of the lift opened and they stepped out into the building foyer.

"I'll see," she murmured as she walked to the exit, Otis beside her.

* * *

Maeve watched Otis as he unlocked his bike then she asked, "Where now?"

"Are you hungry?"

"Yeah," she said.

"There's a takeaway just up there. Outdoor seating. I walked past it last time."

"Should have got me a burger then."

"You didn't like the sandwich?"

"I loved it," Maeve said, quickly and sincerely.

"I didn't know what to get you," Otis said, diffidently.

"You made perfect choices, muppet," Maeve said.

Otis gave her a soft smile. "I hope it's still open," he said and began walking his bike up the hill away from the clinic. Maeve walked beside him.

"So did they say when you'll get your results back?" she asked.

"Friday, she said."

"I've got to wait until the middle of next week for the last one."

Otis was silent for a moment then said, quietly, "I'm sorry I upset you, Maeve."

"Oh, it wasn't you, Otis. I just…"

"I can't imagine you not being my girlfriend now," he said before he could stop himself.

Maeve stared at him, sensing the emotions roiling beneath his surface.

"I'm so lucky you like me," he said. "I never—"

"I was just being stupid," Maeve said, quietly, clearly annoyed with herself.

"Did you think…?" His voice trailed away as he failed to understand what he was wanting to say.

Maeve blinked and glanced around then looked at him. "It's just… when you said 'first' I immediately flashed to 'second' and 'third' and… I was just startled. The thought of…"

Otis shook his head and Maeve swallowed.

"I've had two guys who were actually boyfriends," she said, determined. "Including Jackson. And I was hoping the third time's the charm, you know? And then, when you said that, I just thought, for you, maybe the third time will be your charm."

"No, Maeve…" Otis murmured.

"And I just freaked out. Fight or flight. I'm very good at that."

"Maeve, no…" Otis said, earnestly. "Jackson said… I told you. He thought you could be the one. That's how I feel. That's what I want. For you to be…"

Maeve's face crumpled. "Bloody hell, Otis," she said and neither one of them could tell if she was laughing or crying.

"Maeve…?" Otis began, concerned, and stopped wheeling his bike, pushing down the stand with his foot.

He hurried to Maeve and gently placed his hands on her arms and she looked up at him, smiling uncertainly with tears in her eyes. "We haven't even been together a week and we've already got us in a house with three kids and a picket fence and a dog."

Otis awkwardly wrapped his arms around her and she returned his embrace. "I'm sorry," she murmured into his shirt.

"Don't say sorry," Otis murmured. "It's okay."

"No, I mean, I either get really silly or I… I get like this. I'm sorry you got this the first time."

"What?" asked Otis, not understanding.

Maeve sighed. "I'm getting my period."

* * *

Otis carried the tray with the burgers, chips and drinks from inside the takeaway to the table where Maeve was sitting.

"That's two," he said as he put the tray on the table and sat down.

"Four more to go," Maeve said as she grabbed her food and drink from the tray and placed them before herself.

"Uh-huh," Otis said as he took his own meal from the tray and then placed the tray on the nearest table.

"Thanks," Maeve said as she lifted the top half of the bun off her burger.

Otis took a bite of his own burger and watched as Maeve placed some chips on top of the patty and replaced the top half of the bun on top of them. She lifted it to her mouth.

"Is that because of your period?" he asked.

"What?" Maeve asked, frowning as she hesitated before taking a bite.

"Chips on your burger."

"No, I just like it. Always have. Most times I have to take off all the crap they put on top."

"Mum usually eats a whole bag of chips or ice cream or both just before her period."

Maeve smirked around her mouthful of food. "You're very comfortable talking about periods," she said after she had swallowed.

"Mum has given me a thorough education in the menstrual cycle, including the various possible symptoms of pre-menstrual syndrome."

"Jackson looked as if his balls were shrivelling up every time I mentioned it. You have two mums, Jackson. Aren't you fucking used to it by now?"

"Do…?" Otis began, tentatively. "Do you mind if I ask…?"

"Depends what you're going to ask," Maeve smirked.

"Do you get bad cramps?"

"Sometimes," Maeve said.

"How long's your cycle?"

"33 days. I think it's getting shorter. I think it used to be 36 when I first started getting them."

"That happens."

"I wish it would get longer."

"Is there anything I can do to help you when you get them?"

"You can have my cramps for me. That'd be nice."

"How long do they last, normally?"

"Four days. That's the one thing that's been pretty consistent. Mum used to get them for a week."

A silence fell over them as they continued eating their meal.

Otis opened his drink and took a sip then studied Maeve as she chewed her food.

"I know your period isn't the reason for having those feelings," he began, cautiously. "It may have made them a little more…"

"Intense? Vivid?"

"Something like that," he said, then held her gaze.

"It scared me," Maeve said after a moment. "Everybody always leaves me. Everybody I want to stay always leaves me."

"Aimee hasn't left you," Otis said, quietly.

Maeve nodded, conceding the point. "The thought of you leaving me… especially so soon…"

"I don't want to leave you if you want me to stay."

Maeve nodded and quietly chewed on the last bite of her burger.

"How long have you had the quote from _Frankenstein_?" Otis asked.

"I read it about a year ago. Like a punch to the gut when I read it."

"I wish it was the scary part you identified with, not the lonely part."

"I do identify with the scary part."

"Is that quote why you pretend to be Scary Maeve?"

"Nah, I've always been a stroppy cow. And who says I'm pretending?"

"People who know you. People who love you."

"So that's two. I've got the rest of them fooled."

"Speaking of people who love you, Aimee says you have a being-squeezed-out-of-a-random-vagina day coming up."

Maeve groaned. "Oh, what has she got planned?"

"Fancy dress party."

"Aimee," Maeve almost whined.

"You don't like fancy dress parties?"

"I don't like parties. I told you."

"But this is only with the people who love you."

"Who's she inviting?"

"Steve. Eric. Me."

"Do you think Eric will come?"

"Of course. He was the one pushing me to get together with you from the start. And he loves dressing up."

"What would I dress up as?"

"Frankenstein's monster. No, Kermit the Frog."

"And who would you be?"

"The cookie monster," Otis said as if it was obvious.

"No, you should dress up as Kermit," Maeve said in a tone he had no desire to argue with.

"And who would you be?"

"Xena, of course. A prince and a princess."

"Is that one of the girlfriend/boyfriend things you've thought about?"

Maeve shrugged. "When I'm soft."

"So I can tell Aimee it's okay?"

"If you must," Maeve sighed.

Otis grinned and took out his phone. "What's her number?"

Maeve told him and Otis typed the digits out as she repeated them.

**It's Otis. Maeve says it's okay to have a party for her**

"So when is your birthday?" he asked. "Aimee didn't say."

"Month after next. Third week of term."

Otis' phone beeped and he checked the message.

**Fantastic. Thanks**

**Can we make it a fancy dress party?**

**She wants a fancy dress party?**

**I told her it was fancy dress**

**Why?**

**Is it okay?**

**Who are you dressing up as?**

**Can't tell. You'll find out**

**Okay. I think Steve will like it**

"What did she say?" Maeve asked.

"She said 'great'. And thanked you."

"I bet she goes as Wolverine."

"She likes Hugh Jackman?"

"Nah, she said she wanted her fingernails as long as Wolverine's so anyone who pissed her off, she could **'**_fzt fzt'_." Maeve waved her hand back and forth in front of herself.

"Wouldn't that make her Lady Deathshrike?" Otis asked.

"Who's Lady Deathstrike?"

"She's got adamantium fingernails."

"God, you really _are_ a geek," Maeve said, smiling.

"She was in the second movie," Otis protested. "She's mainstream."

"A really gorgeous geek."

* * *

Maeve sat on the seat of Otis' bike, staring ahead along the country lane. Otis stared at her.

"You've seen me ride," he said. "You've seen other people ride. Just use one foot on the pedal to start with and then bring your other one off the ground when you start moving."

Maeve nodded and glanced down at her feet.

"And you know which side the brake is on?" Otis asked.

"This one," Maeve said, fingers resting on the brake.

Otis nodded. "Just make sure you're ready to put your foot down when the bike stops."

"Okay," Maeve nodded.

"And don't squeeze too hard until you figure out how much pressure you need."

"We're talking about the brakes, aren't we?"

"Don't be nervous."

"I'm not nervous."

"Just go up to that big tree up there. I'll catch up."

"Okay," Maeve nodded.

"Whenever you're ready."

Otis stepped back and watched as Maeve seemed to count internally then took in a breath, started to push the pedal with her foot then lift her other foot onto the other pedal and then she was moving.

Otis hoped she didn't stack herself.

He noticed the front wheel wobbling a little and called, "Move a little faster. Keep the front wheel pointed where you want to go."

He watched her nervously then relaxed a little as he saw her respond and then she was moving more confidently and he walked along the lane after her.

When he saw her stop by the tree and put her feet down to steady herself he hurried to catch up.

She looked up at him as he approached, her eyes shining and her lips smiling.

"That felt good," she said.

"I said you'd pick it up."

"I thought I was going to stack it at first."

"Yeah, but you didn't."

"Do these things really work?" she asked, tapping the helmet.

"Kept my brains in down Bleaker's Hill."

"You didn't have any brains to begin with if you were riding down Bleaker's Hill," Maeve smirked at him.

"Yeah, probably."

Maeve looked ahead along the lane and thrust her chin forward as an indicator. "Can I do more? That tree up there?"

"Of course," Otis said and stepped back, watching as she went through the motions again, clearly feeling a little more confident.

He smiled to himself as he slowly followed her, catching up to her as she waited by the tree she had indicated.

"How long will it take to fix your other bike?" she asked.

"Dunno. Haven't looked at it in ages."

"Hope it doesn't take too long."

"You liked it?"

"Yeah, it's fun. Although I think my calves are gonna feel it if I keep it up."

"You'll get used to it."

"Do you mind if I do it to that tree up there?"

"You can do it all the way back if you want."

"Might be fun having you run after me all the way back."

"Having the guy chase the girl? That's a very traditional boyfriend/girlfriend thing, Maeve."

"Makes me feel wanted when it's a guy I want."

Otis smiled and leant towards her and as she raised her head for a kiss their helmets cracked together and they winced at the sensation.

"Ow," said Otis.

"Fuck," said Maeve.

"You alright?" asked Otis.

"Yeah."

"That's the first time I've ever done that."

"I don't think we're going to be able to kiss with these coconut shells on."

"Sorry. Wasn't thinking."

"Doesn't matter," Maeve said with a shrug. "Let me just get up to that tree then you can take over. Then we can get back and take these things off."

"Okay," Otis said, nodding, then stepped back and watched as an even more confident Maeve began riding his bike toward the next large tree.

* * *

Otis' tongue entwined with Maeve's as they lay on the hill overlooking the caravan park. His bike lay on the ground behind them, their helmets discarded beside it.

Maeve felt Otis' hand tenderly move up her waist and was disappointed when he stopped and pulled his head back.

"Do your breasts get sore when you get your period?" he asked, concerned.

Maeve smiled and grabbed his hand and placed it firmly on her right breast.

"They can," she murmured. "But they're not now and I'll let you know if they are."

She reached her head up and kissed him again and felt warmth rush through her as he tenderly, gently squeezed her breast.

"I still can't believe my girlfriend's an exhibitionist," he said when they broke apart.

"No-one can see where your hand is," she murmured. "Besides, I think I'm a naturist. Exhibitionists want people actually watching when they're in public, don't they?"

"You said one of the things about having sex at school was the thrill of somebody maybe catching you any moment."

"That was before your mum caught us."

"You've changed your mind?"

"I think so. I mean, I wouldn't let you finger me up here now. I might have last week."

"So why do you like being outside?"

"I told you, the fresh air on my skin feels good. I feel… free."

Otis ran his eyes tenderly across her face.

"And it's a way of saying 'fuck you," Maeve continued.

"To whom?"

"To everybody. To those guys who were going on about me having green pubes. To the woman who said they wouldn't do it if I didn't dress like a slut."

"You don't dress like a slut," Otis said, annoyed.

"I just want to be able to feel attractive without all the shit. I want to be able to feel sexy, just for me. Not even thinking I'm going to do anything with anybody or want anybody to see me. Just thinking I can go, 'Looking good, Wiley,' if I see my reflection. Do you understand?"

Otis grimaced. "I'm still working on the difference between appreciating and objectifying."

"I've had really big arguments with guys and women about me only doing it to get guys to check me out, but it's not about that. I mean, I don't care if people think, "She scrubs up well.' I've been over at the mall and seen some hot guy and thought, 'Hello, salty goodness.' But I don't go shouting, 'Get yer dick out.' 'Nice bulge you got there.'"

Maeve realised Otis had removed his hand from her breast and was watching her tenderly, listening to her intently.

"But don't stare until I've got laser burns all over me," she continued. "Don't grab my boob on the dance floor. Don't grab my arse on the train. Don't tell me I've got a nice rack if you're not my boyfriend."

She pressed her lips together and glared up at Otis.

"Even if you _are_ my boyfriend," she murmured.

"I wouldn't," Otis said quietly.

"Don't say anything. Just… take the memory and move on with your life."

After a moment, Otis said, cautiously, "I don't get how that relates to being naked outside."

"I'm a girl. I like fucking. And they're not going to make me feel ashamed of any of it."

"I still don't understand," Otis said, quietly.

Maeve scrunched her nose and muttered, "Probably not explaining it well."

Otis stared tenderly at her, not knowing what to say.

Maeve gazed at him for a long moment, then sighed. "I'm sorry. I hope you get silly me next time."

"Don't blame it on your period, Maeve. The feelings are real," Otis said then tensed, wondering if he had overstepped.

Maeve smiled tenderly at him and reached over to stroke his cheek. "I love you," she murmured.

"Me, too," Otis said.

"Do you mind if we don't talk on the phone tonight? I'm feeling as if I want to catch an early kip."

"I don't mind," he said quietly, understanding.

"Thanks."

"Is there any connection between how bad your cramps get and your mood just beforehand?"

"I wish. So I knew what to expect."

"Do you want time alone tomorrow?"

"No, you can come over. I won't be biting your head off." She smirked. "Any more than I normally would."

Otis thought for a moment then asked, "Do you want to come over to my place? I can cook you another meal."

"As long as you let me cook for you on Friday."

"Deal."

* * *

Otis stepped into his kitchen and put his bag on the table. "Mum?" he called.

"In here, darling," his mother replied from the loungeroom.

Otis walked into the loungeroom, noting she was watching something on the television.

"What are you watching?" he asked.

Jean grabbed the remote and paused the programme as he sat beside her. "_The Fall_," she said. "It's got that woman from _Hannibal_ in it."

Otis studied the screen which showed a close-up of a blonde actress about his mother's age. "She looks a bit like you."

Jean studied the actress. "You think so?" she asked, scrunching her face.

"Mmmm," Otis hummed.

Jean shrugged and pressed STOP and put down the remote.

"I told Maeve she looked like Margot Robbie," Otis said.

"I bet that went down well," Jean said drily.

"I'm never going to make that comparison again."

"Women don't like being compared with other women, no matter who the other woman is. Even if you think it's a compliment."

Otis nodded and Jean noticed he seemed to be wanting to say something.

"You're home early," she said. "I wasn't expecting you until later."

"Maeve's getting her period. She wanted to go to bed early."

Jean blinked in surprise. "She told you she was having her period?" she asked, slowly.

Otis nodded. "She said she's getting it."

Jean studied her son carefully, sensing he wanted to say something more.

"Thanks for telling me about the menstrual cycle," he eventually said. "Maeve said her last boyfriend was really uncomfortable but I think she appreciated I was able to talk about it. I hope she did," he said quietly to himself.

"I'm sure she did," Jean murmured, quietly pleased with her son. "But, as much as I wish it were otherwise, I'm not sure many girls would feel as comfortable."

Otis nodded, staring at his feet. "But it's just natural. It's a part of what most women deal with."

"It is," Jean murmured.

"You used to take long baths, didn't you?" he asked after a moment.

"Yes. I still do sometimes. Helps with the cramps and the back pain."

"You still get them?"

Jean noticed he wasn't able to look at her.

"Yes, I haven't gone through the change yet," she said, then rolled her eyes at herself. "Menopause. I haven't gone through menopause yet."

Jean watched Otis quietly nodding to himself.

"I can explain about menopause again, if you like," she said after a moment, gently smiling, softly teasing.

Otis glanced up at her, lips curling in amusement. "I don't think Maeve has to worry about that yet."

"Well, whenever you need a refresher…"

"Thanks," Otis said then, after a moment, continued, "If Maeve feels she'd like to take a bath, do you mind if I invite her over? She only has a shower."

"Of course," Jean said after a moment.

"I'll pay for the extra water."

"Have you made her the offer yet?"

"No, I only just thought about it."

"Well, make the offer gently. Don't let her feel that you think you know better how to deal with her experience than she does. She's been dealing with her periods and their symptoms for, likely, years now."

"I know," Otis said.

"Of course you do," Jean murmured to herself. "I'm sorry."

Otis shrugged and shook his head. "It doesn't hurt to be reminded occasionally that I don't know everything."

Jean studied her son, sensing there was still more he wanted to say.

"Otis?" she asked tentatively.

"What?"

"Do you mind if I ask you a question that I'd like you to answer honestly?"

"When have I ever been able to stop you asking questions?" Otis asked, wrily.

"You'll answer honestly?"

Otis glanced at her and seemed to shrink in upon himself but nodded, looking away to stare at his feet.

Jean thought for a moment then began, tentatively. "I have tried over the years to provide you with an education about sex and sexuality… menstruation, menopause…" She hesitated momentarily. "… masturbation…" She noticed Otis press his lips together and force himself not to squirm. "In hope," she continued, "that you would understand the normality of the complete sexual experience and perhaps not be afflicted by many of the issues I've seen in my generation. And previous ones."

Jean could see Otis wander his eyes rapidly around the room but he didn't move and he didn't speak.

"When I – and please don't be angry with her – when I gave Maeve a lift on Sunday, she seemed to indicate that I was not successful in that endeavour and perhaps may have even generated the opposite of my intended effect."

Otis swallowed but did not speak and Jean read the truth in his posture.

She sighed softly to herself. "Please don't be angry with her," she repeated, quietly.

"She told me," Otis said, shrugging. "I didn't mind."

Jean pressed her lips together and waited a moment, then asked, "Is there anything you would like to say to me?"

Otis took in a slow breath but did not speak.

"You can be honest," Jean said quietly.

Otis took in a breath through his nose and Jean waited, hoping he could bring himself to say something.

"I just think…" he eventually began. "And it's not just you. It's dad, too. I just think that… sometimes you were both telling me things when I was too young to hear them and… neither of you checked to see whether I understood exactly what you were saying."

"And you feel that has affected your current attempts to form a relationship?" Jean asked, softly.

"Not just a relationship. Everything," Otis said, quietly.

Jean was silent for a long moment then said, quietly, "I'm sorry."

"I know you didn't mean it. I know neither of you meant it. It's just… that's the way it's happened."

After a moment, Jean asked, "Is there any specific area you would like to discuss?"

Jean watched Otis think for a moment and was both nervous and hopeful as he opened his mouth as if to speak but then he closed it again and she made every effort she needed not to push.

"Doesn't matter. D'you mind if we leave this for now? I've got some homework I should do," Otis said, not willing to look at her.

Jean nodded, hoping she was concealing her disappointment. "Of course, but you know you can talk to me if you need to."

"I know," Otis mumbled as he stood and walked toward the door.

Jean looked up as she noticed him stop and turn back to face her.

"Thanks for… everything, mum. I know you've only been trying to help. I just want you to know… I appreciate it. Even if it didn't seem that way sometimes."

Jean nodded, giving him a small smile. She watched as he disappeared toward the kitchen then, a minute later, walk past the door again, carrying his bag and a drink up the stairs.

She sighed quietly to herself, wondering if she should talk to Remi then wondered if perhaps this was something best left to Otis to tell him. If he chose to.

She wondered, for a moment, whether she would have fucked up this badly with a daughter instead.

* * *

**Author's Notes: When I was first jotting down ideas eighteen months ago, I remembered my sister once explaining that my niece's then-current silly mood was because she was about to get her period and I wanted to bring that into the story. Things changed between my brain and the page but if this story reaches Day 40 then I plan on showing silly Maeve at that point.**

**I just hope the women reading this feel I have been respectful about the situation and I haven't come across as a Neanderthal idiot. If I have, I'm sorry. I just feel it fits well within the themes of the series and I wanted Otis to not have the expected reaction of a teenage boy.**

**I can't promise when the next chapter will arrive but I hope it will not take as long as this one has.**

**I also hope that you have enjoyed it at least a little.**


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